<>7.<b:^  ^  oo. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


y 


?x 


'.">•  ■»?-< 


&?■ 


L<>^ 


'A 


1.0 

;:io    "  = 
IIIIIT  0 

11111^= 

I.I 

''  IIM 

1.25 


1.4 


IIM 

1 2.0 

1.6 


V] 


<^'      >• 


/a 


'a,. 


•cM 


#2 


'^' 


-m/   '>' 


^% 


O 


/ 


M 


Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


■'S^ 


^ 


i\ 


\\ 


.^ 


"^^ 


•'^^.#:<> 


%''  .^  "%' 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


4f 


Q, 


i/.A 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
ColSection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


;\ 


\ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


D 


D 
D 
D 
D 

D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagde 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul6e 


□    Cover  title  missing/ 
Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

j      I    Coloured  maps/ 


D 


Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reiid  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  dt6  filmdes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  dtd  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m^thode  normile  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 

□    Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 

I      I    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


D 


Pages  restaurSee  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxe( 
Pages  d6color6es,  tachetdes  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detsche«i/ 
Pages  detu  tehees 

Showthrouyh/ 
Transparera-e 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  in6gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materi* 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


rrpt   Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I      I    Pages  detsche^/ 

rrX  Showthrouyh/ 

I      I    Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I    Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I      I    Only  edition  available/ 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  filmdes  d  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqud  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

v/ 

1 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  tiie  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grSce  d  la 
g6n6rositd  de: 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Les  images  si^ivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  so.i,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nett(t^^  dci  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimde  sont  film6s  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  unj  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film^s  en  commengant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  ^^>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED ").  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END  "), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  chaque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichd,  il  est  filmd  i  partir 
de  Tangle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite. 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

kunptou  i^aturcs. 


oV»Jc 

UMITS  OF  RELIGIOUS  TUOUGHT  LXAMIXED.  Lectures,  delivered  in  the 
Oxford  University  Pulpit,  ou  tlie  "  Bampton  Foundation."  Bj-  Itev.  H.  Lox. 
GCEViLLE  M.vxsEL.  Witli  Copious  NOTES  TRANSLATED  for  tlio  Aiuericao 
edition.    l::^mo,  cloth,  1.50. 

"  ThU  b  incomparabl;'  the  aljleat  contribatlon  to  the  cauae  of  sound  learning  and  treasures  of  exact 
Ibooeli'-  wi>i  l>  bas  recent!;-  been  added  to  the  common  stock.  In  clear  and  simple  terms,  with  strong 
•nuwand  abundant  learning,  positions  are  laid  down  wlHcb  will  affect  tlie  science  of  tliinking  for  a  long 
futnre,  and  which  administer  a  strong  and  wholesome  corrective  tc  the  flippant  materialism  of  Iba 
times."—  C-mgrfgationalUt. 

UISTORICAL  EVIDENCES  OF  THE  TRUTU  OF  THE  SCRIPTURE  Rec- 
OBDS,  STATED  ANEW,  with  Special  reference  to  the  Doubts  and  Discoveriea 
of  Modem  times.  Lectures  delivered  in  the  Oxford  University  Pulpit,  on  the 
Bampton  Foondation.  By  Geo.  Rawlinson,  M.A.  With  the  Copious  Notes 
TEAXSL.VTED  foT  the  American  edition.     12mo,  cloth,  1.75 

"TbAconramate  learning,  Jnd^rment,  nnd  general  ability  dlsplaj^ed  by  Mr.  Itawlinson  In  his  edition 
•f  Heimlotaa  are  exhibited  In  this  work  alsor" — Xorth  American  Seview. 

"  In  its  rp«rlil  appTlcation  of  secular  history  to  the  Illustration  of  the  sacred  record;  It  possesses  an 
intcmt  and  Talne  for  Biblical  students,  wlilch  can  hiinlly  be  expressed  In  words.  We  see  not  bow 
any  maa  of  candor  can  read  this  volume  and  retain  a  doubt  as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  historical  books 
of  the  CM  Testament."  — -V.  T.  I>idt.-pt:nilcnt. 

PROGRESS  OF  DOCTRINE  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT;  Lectures  on 
the  Bampton  Foundation.  By  Thomas  Deiiany  Bernard,  E.\cter  College. 
12mo,  cloth,  1.50. 

"  A  buc4k  of  remarkable  ability  and  Interest,  No  production  within  the  present  centnry  ban  appeared 
more  fmh  in  matter,  original  in  style,  or  of  more  permanent  value  to  the  cause  of  tmth,  than  this." 


Pulscjm  ^ccfur^s. 


LIFE  OF  CHRIST  HISTORICALLY  CONSIDERED.  The  Hnlsean  Lectures 
with  Notes  Critical,  Historical,  and  Explanatory.  By  C.  J.  Ellicott,  B.D. 
Royal  12mo,  cloth,  1.75 

"  rr^f.  Ellieott  has  shown  himself  to  be  a  true  scholar,    lie  Is  doubtless  omojg  the  ver^  first  of  all 
Englisli  speaking  scholars  of  the  present  generation." — New  Englander. 

"  Every  page  seems  to  be  the  result  of  deep  thoug'lt  and  careflil  Investigation." —fvan;.  Betievi- 

"  TMs  b  no  common  book.    It  is  evidently  the  production  of  a  master  mind."  —  VnUed  Prttbi/ttrian, 

raXRODCCTION  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  GOSPELS.  With  Historical  and 
Explanatory  notes.  By  Brooke  Fobs  Wi:stcott,  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, with  an  Introduction  by  Prof.  H.  B.  Hackett,  D.D.  Boyol  12mo, 
doth,  2.00. 

'-Tbeirrfc  is  a  striking  combination  of  originality  with  erudition,  its  argnmenlls  maaterl*."' 
MOaJci^'-t  I  atlo-wi. 


OUTLINE    OF 


SIR    WILLIAM    HAMILTO]S''S 


I^HILOSOI>HY. 


t  ! 


(-i- 


OUTLI2SrE 


OP 


SIR  WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S 
PHILOSOPHY. 


A  TEXT-BOOK  FOR   STUDENTS. 


BY    TH  E 


REV.  J.  CLARK  MURRAY, 


1   --/  ^ 


PKOPBSSOR  OF  MKNTAL  AND  MORAL  PUILOSoriir,  QUEEN'S  UmTEBSITT,  OAVAOA. 


©Kttfi  an  Enttcbtsr^fon, 


B  V     T  11  K 

REV.   JAMES    McCOSH,   LL.D, 

FHISIDEMT  or  PRINCETON  COLLKOE,  NEW  JKBSEr. 


BOSTON: 


CJ-OXTLD     AND      LINCOLN, 

£9     WASniNOTON     STREET. 

NEW  TOBK:  SHELDON  AND  COMPANT. 

CINCINNATI  :  G.  S.  BLANCHAUD  &  CO. 

TOKNOTO,  ONT.:  ADAM,  STEVENSON  &  CO. 

1870. 


n'l^^iriac 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870,  by 

GOULD    AND    LINCOLN, 

In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at   Washington. 


Rockwell  k  CnCRCnilX,  Printer*,  Boston. 


t  ■' 


®o    tl)e   fRemorn 


or 


SIR    WII.I.IA3I    HAMILTON, 

THIS    ESSAY 

/^^    THE    EXPOSITION    OF   BIS    PmLOSOPIIY 
Is   Inacribed 
BY 

A    GRATEFUL   PUPIL. 


"On  Earth  there  Is  nothing  great  but  Man- 
In  Man  there  is  nothing  great  but  3Iind." 


PREFACE. 


The  primary  object  of  this  work  is  to  provide  a  convenient 
text-book  in  philosophy.  The  labors  of  Sir  William  Hamilton 
as  a  professor  formed  generally  the  most  powerful  influence 
in  the  philosophical  education  of  those  who  came  within  their 
reach ;  and  a  similar  influence  has  extended  into  wider  circles 
through  his  writings.  It  seemed  to  me,  therefore,  that  his 
philosophy  might  still  be  made  a  valuable  instrument  of 
philosophical  culture. 

The  chief  difliculty  in  the  way  of  this  lay  in  the  selection 
of  one  of  his  works,  suitable  for  use  as  a  text-book.  A  very 
slight  acquaintance  with  these  is  suflicient  to  show  that  none 
of  them  by  itself  presents  a  complete  view  of  his  philosophical 
opinions  in  systematic  order.'     The  Lectures  on  Metaphysics, 


1  For  many  readers  It  may  not  be  unnecessary  to  enumerate  the  works  of 
Sir  AVilliam  Hamilton.  (1.)  His  edition  of  lieid's  Works  (1846)  contains,  besides 
many  valuable  footnotes,  a  number  of  supplementary  dissertations  on  various 
pliilosophical  subjects.  Only  a  few  of  the  intended  dissertalJons  were  ever 
completed;  but  since  his  deatli  his  editors  have  published  tlie  fragmentary 
materials  he  had  collected  for  tlie  dissertations  wliich  had  been  left  unfinished. 
(2.)  The  articles  which  he  had  contributed  to  the  Edinburgh  Review  were  col- 
lected into  one  volume,  with  numerous  additions,  under  the  title  of  Discussions 
in  Philosophy  and  Literature,  Education  and  University  Reform  (1852). 
(3.)  The  lectures,  which  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  delivering  to  his  classes, 
.were  published  posthumously;   the   Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  in    1839;  the 

Lectures  on  Logic,  in  J860. 

IX 


X  VRF.FACE. 

wliicli  contain  tlie  fullest  accoiiul  of  liis  pliilosophy,  ami  iVom 
whic'li,  therefore,  the  larfjcst  extracts  have  been  drawn  for  the 
present  work,  besides  behijr  devoted  mainly  to  one  subdivision 
of  his  system,  fail  to  give  his  matured  views,  or  the  matured 
expression  of  his  views,  on  some  subjects,  while  the  discussion 
of  many  points  is  overladen  with  a  mass  of  extraneous  mattcjr, 
which  is  generally  confusing  to  the  beginner  and  unnecessary 
for  the  comprehension  of  Ilaniillt)n'a  own  system.  I  have, 
therefons  thought  it  advisable  to  attempt  the  systematic  ex- 
hiljition  of  liis  philosophical  opinions  without  regard  to  the 
order  or  the  mode  of  treatment  wliich  he  has  followed  in  any 
of  his  writings. 

In  doing  so,  however,  it  was  necessary  to  adopt  some 
order ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  no  right  to  adopt  any 
other  than  that  which  the  philosopher  has  himself  suggested 
in  his  distribution  of  the  philosophical  sciences,'  though  ho 
has  nowhere  been  able  to  carry  it  out.  This  distribution 
may  possess  comparatively  little  merit,  and  has  certainly 
exerted  no  inlluence  in  directing  the  course  of  speculative 
thought  in  Europe  or  America,  such  as  has  flowed  from 
Hegel's  or  from  Comte's  classifieaticn  of  the  sciences ;  but  the 
system  of  Hamilton  would  be  inadequately  represented  by 
following  any  other  course  than  that  which  I  have  adopted. 

With  regard  to  the  liberties  which  I  have  taken  in  the 
composition  of  this  Outline,  I  may  remark,  in  the  first  place, 
that  it  has  frequently  been  necessary  to  transfer  passages 
from  their  original  contexts,  and  that,  in  doing  so.  I  have 
introduced  them  into  their  new  contexts  by  such  connecting 
particles  and   phrases   as  seemed  most  appropriate.     I  have 


1  See  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  VII. 


PREFACE. 


XI 


luitl  iVoin 
irn  for  the 
ubtlivisiou 
3  matured 
discussion 
119  matter, 
inccessary 
I  have, 
Miiatic  ex- 
ivd  to  tlie 
red  in  any 

lopt    some 
adopt  any 
snjjgesti'd 
[though  ho 
istribution 
certainly 
jeculutive 
wed    from 
;  but  tlio 
isented   by 
dopted. 
;en   in   the 
irst  place, 
passages 
io.  I  have 
jonnecting 
I  have 


also  frequ(!nt1y  left  out  of  a  passage  a  few  words  which  were 
not  essential  to  its  nu^aning,  especially  when  they  appeared 
to  be  intended  rather  for  nn  andienco  than  for  readers.  .Such 
slight  liberties  I  have  not  considered  it  necessary  to  indicate. 
OccasioniiUy,  moreover,  where  Hamilton's  editors  intimate 
that  he  lias  :idoptcd  the  language  of  another  writer  for  tlie 
expression  of  his  views,  I  have  not  preserved  the  marks  of 
quotation,  as  these  might  have  been  confusing  to  a  student. 
In  one  or  two  instances,  liowever,  I  have  ventured  on  nn 
independent  or  abridged  statement  of  Hamilton's  doctrine; 
but  SMch  passages  liave  been  uniformly  pointed  out  in  the 
footnotes.  It  may  also  be  added  that  I  am  responsible  for  the 
tabular  classifications  at  pagrs  83  and  88,  as  well  as  for  some 
slight  alteriitions  of  expression  in  tlie  others.  Witli  these  ex- 
planations it  may  be  said  that  the  text  is  wholly  Hamilton's. 

As  an  exposition  of  Hamilton's  Diilosophy,  the  Outline  con- 
tains some  imperfections  which  were  unavoidable.  Even  in  the 
language  these  may  at  times  be  traced :  for,  while  the  volume 
is  in  the  form  of  j'  text-book  for  private  stud^',  the  largest 
portion  of  it  is  extracted  from  lectures  which  were  intendeil 
to  be  delivered  to  a  class;  and  though  I  have  endeavored  to 
leave  out  all  the  most  obtrusive  expressions  of  direct  address, 
it  was  impossible  to  destroy  the  general  form  of  phraseology. 
Some  passages,  moreover,  undoubtedly  suffer  from  being 
used  as  an  exposition  of  a  doctrine  in  a  different  connection 
and  in  a  different  point  of  view  from  that  in  which  they  were 
originally  written.  I  believe,  however,  that  no  liberty  which 
I  have  taken  ii  the  composition  of  the  book  has  originated 
a  single  misrepresentation  of  Hamilton's  opinions,  while  the 
whole  volume    offers    a  fair    representation  of   his  complete 


XII 


PREFACE. 


philosophical  system.  At  the  same  time  T  do  not  take  the 
responsibility  of  recommending  that  my  book  should  be  ac- 
cepttu  as  a  final  authority  in  any  important  question  couce;.ning 
Hamilton's  doctrine,  without  referring  to  the  works  of  the 
philosopher  himseif.  I  have,  therefore,  uniformly  subjoined, 
within  parentheses,  a  distinct  reference  to  the  place  in  his 
works  from  which  each  passage  of  the  Outline  is  extracted; 
and,  to  prevent  mistake,  I  may  observe  that  each  refei'cnce 
embraces  the  whole  i)assage  between  it  and  the  previous 
reference.  I  am  not  without  hope,  therefore,  that,  while  the 
Outline  may  serve  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  primarily 
designed,  it  may  also  be  of  some  use  tc  those  who  desire  an 
acquaintance  with  Sir  William  Hamilton's  system  of  philosophy, 
and  have  found  the  state  of  his  writings  a  formidable  obstacle 
in  their  way. 

I  have  only  to  add  that  the  work  is  merely  expository,  and 
that,  therefore,  while  I  have  avoided  any  criticism  of  Hamilton's 
doctrines,  I  do  not  always  undertake  the  responsibility  of  their 
defence.  I  believe,  however,  that  the  teaching  of  philosophy 
must  still,  at  least,  be  conducted  by  helping  the  student  to 
master  the  varying  points  of  view  from  which  the  different 
representative  systems  look  out  on  the  field  of  speculation. 
For  this  reason,  I  trust  that  a  slight  service  has  been  rendered 
to  the  cause  of  philosoi:>hical  education  by  presenting,  with  a 
completeness  which  has  never  before  been  attempted,  the 
system  of  Sir  AVilliam  Hamilton. 

J.  CLAUK   MUKBAY. 
Queen's  College,  O.nt.,  October,  1870. 


take  the 

id  be  ac- 

once;.'ning 

lS  of   the 

subjoined, 

Lce  in  his 

jxtracted ; 

reference 

previous 

while  the 

primarily 

desire  an 

hilosophy, 

e  obstacle 

sitory,  and 
[lamiltou's 
ty  of  tlieir 
philosophy 
student  to 
B  different 
[peculation, 
1  rendered 
ng,  with  a 
aptod,  the 

:UURAT. 


CONTENTS. 


iNTBODUOTony  Note,  bt  Db.  James  McCosh      .       .       .       .        j^^j" 

INTRODUCTION. 

§  1.     7^  General  Nature  of  Philosophy jg 

(A)  Nominal  Definition  of  Philosophy jg 

(B)  Real  Definition  of  Philosophy .20 

I.  Historical  or  Empirical  Knowledge    ....      21 

II.  Philosophical  or  Scientific  Knowledge         ...      22 
Philosophy,  strictly  so  called,  is  the  Science  of  Mind  .      24 

§  2.     Classification  of  the  Philosophical  Sciences 25 

Tabular  View  of  the  Classification 27 

FIRST  DIVISION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 
INTRODUCTION  TO  PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

CHAPTER    I. 

DEFINmON  OF  THE  SCIENCE,  AND   EXPLANATION  OF  TERMS 
IN  THE  DEFINITION. 

Phenomenal  Psychology  defined     .... 
Terms  of  the  definition  oxplained   .... 


31 
31 


ZIII 


3UV 


CONTENTS. 


(A)  Torms  expressing  the  Madlfeatations  of  Mind         .        .        .32 
(fi)  Terms  expressing  the  Unknown  Basis  of  Mental  Manifesta- 
tions    34 


CHAPTER    II. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  IN  GENERAL. 


§  1.     Consciousness:  Its  Ceneral  Nature 37 

§  2.     Consciousness:  Its  Special  Conditions      ......       40 

(A)  Undisputed  Conditions:  —  I.    It  is  an   actual  knowledge. 

II.  It  is  an  immediate  knowledge.  III.  It  supposes  dis- 
crimination.  IV.  It  involves  judgment.  V.  It  implies 
memori/      ..........       40 

(B)  Disputed,  whetlier  consciousness  is  a  particular  faculty,  or  the 

universal  condition,  of  intelligence       ..... 

I.  It  cannot  ho  discriminated  from  the  other  faculties 

II.  It  is  cognizant  of  their  objects,  as  well  as  of  their 

operations 

§  3.     Consciousness  :  Its  Evidence  and  Authority     ..... 

(A)  It  is  the  principal  source  from  which  all  knowledge  of  mental 

phenomena  must  bo  obtained.  —  Phrenology 

(B)  Authority  of  its  Testimony. — Two  points  of  view,  under 

which  its  deliverances  may  be  considered  . 

Rules  for  applying  its  Testimony  . 

§  4.     Consciousness  :   Classification  of  its  Phenomena         . 

I.  Knowledges;  II.  Feelings;  III.  Conations     , 

Criticism  of  Objections  to  the  Classification:     I 

classes  are  not  co-ordinate;  II.  That  taere  can  bo  only 
two  fundamental  powers  of  mind 56 


42 
43 

45 

46 

47 


.             .             . 

48 

... 

63 

.           •            . 

63 

... 

54 

at  the  three 

CONTENTS. 


XV 


37 
40 


FIRST    PART    OF   PHENOMENAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 
PHENOMENOLOGY    OF    THE    COGNITIONS. 

INTRODUCTION. 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 

What  is  meant  by  a  mental  pnwcr    ....••••       61 

Distribution  of  the  Faculties  of  Knowledge 63 

Tabular  View  of  the  Distribution 66 


40 

42 
43 

45 
46- 

47 


. 

48 

• 

53 

• 

63 

• 

54 

00 

ly 

.      56 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 

§  1.     External  Perception 67 

(A)  Distinction  between  Sensation  and  Perception       ...      68 

Law  :  Sensation  and  Perception  are  always  in  the  inverse 

ratio  of  each  other 69 

Illustration  of  the  Law:  I.  From  a  comparison  of  the  dif- 
ferent senses;  II.  From  comparing  different  impressions 
of  the  same  sense,  as  different  (1)  in  degree,  (2)  in  kind      69 

(B)  Distinction  in  the  Qualities  of  Matter 73 

The  qualities  as  contemplated  from  the  point  of  view  of 

Sense  and  from  that  of  the  Understanding        ...      74 

I.  Deduction  of  the  Primary  Qualities        ....       75 

II.  Induction  of  the  Secundo-Primary  Qualities  ...      78 

III.  Induction  of  the  Secondary  Qualities  ....  81 
Tabular  Classification  of  the  Qualities  of  Matter  ...  83 
The  Object  in  Perception  is  either  a  primary  quality  or  the 

quasi-primary  phasis  of  a  secuodo-primary  ...  84 
In  Perception,  therefore,  two  facts  are  always  given,  that  I 

am,  and  that  something  different  from  me  exists  .  .  86 
Theories  of  Per<?bption,  which  arise  from  the  acceptance  or 

non-acceptance  of  these  facts  in  their  integrity        .        .      87 


■n 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

Tabular  Classification  of  theso  theories        ....  88 

§2.    Self-Cfiutioiuness ,         .........  90 

Self-cooscioosness  contrasted  with  Perception        ....  90 

The  fundamental  forms  of  Self-Consciousness  are  Time  and  Self, 
ae  those  of  Perception  are  Time  and  Space.    Two  difficulties 

remored 91 


CHAPTER    II, 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


The  relation  of  the  Conservative  Faculty  to  the  Presentative  on  the  one 

hand,  and  to  the  Reproductive  and  Representative  on  the  other  .       94 

§  1.     The  fact  of  Retention 96 

That  Cognitions,  in  the  Interval  between  acquisition  and  repro- 
duction, continue  to  subsist  in  the  mind,  though  out  of  con- 
eeioosness,  is  proved 
T.  From  External  Perception,  by  (1)  the  Sense  of  Sight,  (2) 

the  Sense  of  Hearing,  (3)  the  other  Senses    ...       96 

II.  From  the  Association  of  Ideas 99 

m.  From  oar  Acquired  Habits  and  Dexterities.      Three 

theories  to  account  for  these 100 

1.  That  of  Hartley  and  Reid  criticised       .        .        .101 

2.  That  of  Stewart  criticised 102 

3.  Hamilton's  own  theory  explained  ....     103 
§  2.     ExplanatioH  of  Retention        ........     104 

Retention  is  explained  by  the  self-activity  of  the  mind ,  the  real 
difficulty  being,  not  how  a  mental  activity  endures,  but  how  it 
ever  vanishes 105 

ISFKREXCES. 

L  That  Retention  extends  to  all  the  mental  phenomena  .        .     107 
2.  That  to  explain  Retention,  physiological  hypotheses  are  un- 
necessary.   Dependence  of  membry  on  the  state  of  the 
brain 107 


Ifi 


CONTENTS. 


XVII 


88 
90 
90 


91 


(2) 

.  96 

.  99 

hree 

.  100 

.  101 

.  102 

.  103 

.  104 

real 

)w  it 

.  105 


CHAPTER     III. 

THE  REPRODUCTIVE  FACULTY, 
Reproduction  governed  by  Laws    .... 

Distinction  between  tho primary  and  the secor, dary  Laws  of  Reproduction     111 
^  1.     Primary  Laws  of  Reproduction      . 
(A)  Gfveral. 

I.  Law  of  Possible  Reproduction  . 
IL  Laws  of  Actual  Reproduction . 

1.  Law  of  Repetition      . 

2.  Law  of  Redintegration 
(B)  Special. 

L  Law  of  Similars 

II.  Law  of  Contrast      .... 

III.  Law  of  Coadjaconcy 

Secondary  Laws  of  Reproduction  . 

General  Law  of  Preference  aSts    . 

(A)  By  relation  to  the  thought  suggesting,  giving 

I.  Law  of  Immediacy    . 

II.  Law  of  Homogeneity 

(B)  By  relation  to  the  mind,  giving  the  Law  of  Facility.     What 

thoughts  are  more  easily  suggested 
§  3.     Distinction  of  Suggestion  and  Reminiscence   . 
Reminiscence  explained 


§2. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 
This  faculty  is  determined  to  represent  by  (1)  the  Reproductive  Faculty 

(2)  the  Faculty  of  Comparison.     Imagination 
Productive  Imagination  is  therefore  Representation  ;,/«,*Compo 
Representation  is  not  limited  to  sensible  objects 
Dreaming,  Somnambulism,  Reverie 
The  Organs  of  Imagination  the  same  as  those  of  Sense 


110 


112 

112 
112 
114 
114 

115 

116 

117 

117 

117 

118 

118 

118 


118 
120 
120 


parison 


126 
127 
128 
128 
131 


xvin 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    V. 


THE    ELABORATIVE    FACULTY. 


§  1,     Primary  Acts  of  Comparison 134 

1.  AflS<  nation  of  Existence 134 

">.  Ifiscrimination  of  the  Ego  and  the  Non-ego    ....  134 

3.  Judgment  of  Agreement  or  Dissimilarity         ....  135 

4.  Recognition  of  Substance         .......  135 

5.  Recognition  of  Cause 135 

§  2.     Classification 136 

(A)  Collective  Notions 136 

(B)  Abstraction,  poetical  and  sciontifio 138 

(C)  Generalization;  General  Notions;  Their  Extension  and  Com- 

prehension           140 

What  is  the  object  of  Consciousness,  when  we  employ  a  gen- 
eral term  ?    Antagonistic  doctrines  of  the  Nominalists  and 

the  Conccptualists 142 

Conoeptualism  originates  in  ambiguity  of  terms           .        .  144 

Theories  on  the  question  of  the  Primum  Cognitum        .        ,  145 

1.  That  terms  are  first  expressive  of  individual  objects      .  145 

2.  That  they  first  express  classes 146 

3.  That  they  first  express  neither  the  precisely  general  nor 

the  dotorminately  particular,  but  the  vague  and  con- 

^                    fusee ,     (Hamilton's  theory) 147 

§  3.     Judgment 150 

§  4.    Reasoning 153 

I.  Deductive  Reasoning,  1.  In  Comprehension;  2.  In  Extension  .  153 

II.  Inductive  Reasoning,  1.  In  Comprehension;  2.  In  Extension  158 
Reasoning,  which  is  synthetic  in   Extension,    is    analytic    in 

Comprehension.    Confused  application  of  the  terms  Analysis 

and  Synthesis 160 


CONTENTS. 


XIX 


134 
134 

134 
135 
135 
135 
136 
136 
138 

140 


142 

144 

145 

145 

146 

Qor 

on- 

147 

150 

153 

n  . 

153 

ion 

158 

160 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 

This  feoulty  is  th,Ji80urco  of  „.c«,ary  or  )zpnar.- cognitions     .        .  jcj 

Criteria  of  such  cognitions:    1.   Incomprohonsibility;    2.   Simplicity; 

3.  No3ossity  and  Universality;  4.  Certainty        .        .  '     jg^ 

The  conditions  of  positive  thought  are:    1.  Non-oontradiction,'  and 

2.  Relativity 

§  1.  Non-coniradiction  involves  the  three  laws  of:  1.  Identity;  2.'  Con-' 
tradiotion ;  3.  Excluded  Middle 

§  2.  Relativity  implies  that  we  can  know  neither  the  unconditlnally 
limited  (the  Absolute)  nor  the  unconditionally  unlimited  (the 
Infinite),  but  only  the  limited,  and  the  conditionally  limited.     This 

condition  is  brought  to  bear  under  two  relations  :     .        .        .167 

(A)  The  Relation  of  Knowledge ,gg 

(B)  The  Relations  of  Existence,  which  are  either 

L  Intrinsic,  of  Substance  and  Quality,  or     .        .        .        .269 

n.  Extrinsic,  comprehending  Time,  Space,  and  Degree       .     170 

Tabular  view  of  the  Conditions  of  Thought 174 

APPENDIX    TO    CHAPTER    VI. 

LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED  IN  ITS  APPLICATION  TO  THE  PRIN 

CIPLE  OP  CAUSALITY. 
Statement  and  Illustration  of  the  principle    .... 

Theories  to  explain  the  principle  explained  and  criticised      .    ' 
Tabular  view  of  these  theories 


173 
177 
180 


SECOND    PART  OF    PHENOMENAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 

PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  FEELINGS. 

INTRODUCTION. 


Relation  of  the  Feelings  to  the  Cognitions  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
Conations  on  the  other    . 


19S 


in- 


XX 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

ABSTRACT   THEORY  OF   PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

Definition  of  Pleasure  and  Pain 198 

Thoir  different  kinds  :     1.  Positive  and  Negative  Pleasure  and  Pain; 

2.  Pain  of  Restraint  and  that  of  Over-oxertion        ....    199 


CHAPTER     II 


\   I 


W 


THE  ABSTRACT  THEORY   APPLIED   TO  THE   CONCRETE 
PHENOMENA. 

§  1.     The  Feelings  as  'Causes 200 

As  Causes  tlio  feelings  are  divided  into  the  pleasurable  and  the 

painful 200 

I.  The  apparent  contradictions  to  the  theory  in  actual  life  arc 

really  confirmations  .■       . 2OO 

II.  The  theory  is  confirmed  by  the  affections  called  painful : 

(1)  Grief;  (2)  Fear;  (3)  Pity;   (4)  Enjoyment  of  tragedies     202 
Four  general  causes  which  affect  the  intensity  of  our  Feelings  : 
I.  Novelty;  II.  Contrast;  III.  Harmony  or  Discord  between 

coe>  stent  activities;  IV.  Association 203 

§  2.      The  Feelings  as  Effects  ........     206 

As  effects  of  the  different  energies  of  life,  tho  feelings  may  be 
classified  in  accordance  with  the  different  classes  of  energies. 

(A)  The  Sensations,  or  feelings  which  accompany  the  exercise  of 

bodily  powers,  are  divided  into  (I.)  those  of  Sensus  Fixus, 
and  (II.)  those  of  Sensus  Vagus 206 

(B)  The  Sentiments,  or  feelings  which  accompany  the  exercise  of 

the  higher  mental  powers,  comprehend 
I.  Tho  contemplative,  the  concomitants  of    our  cognitive 
powers,  which  are  divided  into  (1)  those  of  the  sub- 
sidiary  fjicnlties;   (n)  Self-consciousness  and  (6)  Im- 
agination, and  (2)  those  of  the  elaborative  faculty. 


CONTENTS. 


198 


199 


XXI 


(a)  by  itself,  (6)  in  conjunction  with    imagination. 
The  last  include  :  i.  the  Beautiful ;  ii.  the  Sublime; 

iii.  the  Picturesque 2O8 

II.  The  practical,  the  concomitants  of  our  conatiro  powers, 
comprehending  those  that  relate  to  (1)  self-preserva- 
tion, (2)  enjoyment  of  existence,  (3)  preservation  of 
the  species,  (4)  our  tendency  to  perfection,  (5)  the 
moral  law 219 


THIRD    PART    OF    PHENOMENAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  CONATIONS. 

Terms  to  express  these  phenomena       .... 
They  are  divided  into 

(A)  Desires,  blind  and  fatal  tendencies  to  action  .... 

(B)  Volitions,  free  tendencies  to  action.    The  freedom  of  will  is 

proved  (1)  directly,  (2)  indirectly,  though  it  is  incon- 
ceivablo  (1)  because  of  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned,  (2) 
because  motiveless  volition  is  morally  unaccountable.  But 
the  inconceivability  does  not  invalidate  the  fact,  (1)  be- 
cause the  causal  judgment  is  merely  a  mental  impotence, 
(2)  because  fatalism  is  equally  inconceivable    . 


225 


226 


226 


SECOND    DIVISION    OF   PHILOSOPHY. 


NOMOLOGICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

(A)  Nomology  of  the  Cognitions 031 

(B)  Nomology  of  the  Feelings 232 

(C)  Nomology  of  the  Conativo  Powers ,33 


1^     ::i     ' 


I  i' 


jcxn 


CONTENTS. 


THIRD    DIVISION    OF    PHILOSOPHY. 

INFERENTIAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 
CHAPTER     I. 

EXISTENCE    IN  GENERAL. 

Tho  axiom,  that  wo  havo  no  knowlodgo  of  existence  itself,  but  merely 
of  its  phenomena,  explained  in  roforonco  to  I.  Matter,  and  II. 
Mind 237 

This  axiom  is  divided  into  two  : 

I.  That  tho  properties  of  existence  are  not  necessarily  of  the  same 

number  as  our  faculties  of  apprehending  them    .        .        .     240 

II.  That  tho  properties  known  are  not  necessarily  known  in  their 

native  purity 242 

Certain  inferences,  however,  regarding  existence  itself  may  be  necessi- 
tated by  its  phenomena 244 


!  !i 


CHAPTER    II. 

EXISTENCE  OF  GOD  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

Tho  notion  of  a  God  implies  not  only  Omnipotence,  but  Intelligence  and 

Virtue ;  and  Virtue  involves  Freedom 247 

The  proof  of  God's  existence,  therefore,  requires  the  proof  of  two  prop- 
ositions : 

I.  That  tho  universe  is  the  creation  of  a  free  original  intelligence    250 

II.  That  the  universe  is  governed  not  merely  by  physical,  but  by 

moral,  laws 252 

Value  of  mental  science  to  theology 253 

Evil  influences  of  the  exclusive  study  of  physical  science        .        .        .  254 
Consequences  which  would  result   from  referring  everything  to  the 

mechanism  of  naturo    .        .        .    • 256 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTE. 


iio< 


ly 

I. 

« 

237 

ne 

. 

240 

cir 

. 

242 

si- 

• 

244 

JL. 


Dd 


.     247 


ce 

250 

'7 

. 

252 

• 

253 

• 

254 

he 

^ 

256 

Sir  "William  Hamilton  was  the  greatest  metaphysiciau 
of  his  age,  and  his  metaphysics  will  be  studied  by  thinking 
minds  in  all  coming  ages.  But  his  system  was  not  drawn 
out  in  a  compendious  form  by  himself.  In  order  to  find  it, 
students  have  to  search  a  number  of  treatises  in  the  shape 
of  reviews,  dissertations,  class-lectures,  notes,  and  notes 
upon  notes.  The  stablished  metaphysician  delights  in  all 
this  as  an  exhibition  of  the  working  of  Hamilton's  pene- 
trating intellect,  and  because  of  the  value  of  the  seeds 
which,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  learning,  he  scatters  in  his 
progress.  But  ad  he  often  moves  with  gi-eat  rapidity,  and 
turns  off  at  sharp  angles  into  collateral  discussions,  the 
younger  student  is  apt  to  be  left  behind  and  to  become  per- 
plexed, and  he  longs  to  have  some  guide  who  may  furnish 
him  with  a  clear  and  combined  view  of  the  philosophy  as  a 
whole.  This  felt  want  has  been  supplied  in  Professor 
Murray's  "  Outline  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy." 

I  have  carefully  read  the  work  in  proof,  and  I  am  able  to 
say  that  it  furnishes  an  admirable  summary,  —  clear,  cor- 


XXIII 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTE. 


•[\ 


reel,  and  readily  intelligilde,  of  the  leading  doctrines  and 
connections  of  Iluniilton's  Philosophy.  The  account  is  ren- 
dered mainly  In  Ilaniilton's  own  language,  hy  one  who  un- 
derstands his  philosophy,  and  wIjo  has  the  higher  merit  of 
entering  thoroughly  into  the  spirit  of  his  great  teacher.  I 
have  observed  that  in  points  in  regard  to  which  there  have 
been  disputes  as  to  Hamilton's  meaning.  Professor  Murray 
seems  to  me  to  give  the  proper  version. 

Those  who  are  led  by  this  brief  exposition  to  take  a  gen- 
eral view,  as  from  a  height  to  which  l*iofessor  Murray  has 
conducted  them,  of  the  country  spread  out  before  them,  will 
be  allured,  when  he  has  left  them,  to  enter  upon  a  more  par- 
ticular exploration  for  themselves,  when  they  will  find  in- 
numerable scattered  ore  which  could  not  have  a  place  in  a 
mere  Outline. 

The  testimony  now  given  will  not  be  esteemed  of  less 
value  because  it  comes  from  one  Avho  feels  that  Hamilton 
has  often  followed  Kant's  Critical  Method  too  implicitly, 
and  who  dissents  from  his  doctrines  of  Causality,  of  the 
Relativity  of  Knowledge,  and  of  the  negative  nature  of  our 
Idea  of  the  Infinite. 

JAMES  McCOSII. 
Princeton,  New  Jersey,  U.  S.,  Oct.  1, 1870. 


I> 


\ 


■i   i 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  GENERAL  NATURE  AND  DIVISIONS  OF 

PHILOSOPHY. 


§  1.      THE   OEKERAL  NATURE   OF  PniLOSOPnY. 

I\  commencing  a  course  of  philosophical  discipline, 
it  is  important  to  obtain,  at  least,  a  general  notion  of 
what  philosophy  is.  In  order  to  this,  there  are  two 
questions  to  be  answered  :  {A)  What  is  the  mean- 
ing of  the  name?  and  (i?)  What  is  the  meaning  of 
the  tJiing? 

(A)  Nominal  Definition  of  Philosophy.  Philoso- 
phy is  a  term  of  Greek  origin,  —  it  is  a  compound 
of  ffO-og,  a  lover  ov  friend,  and  aofCuj  zvisdom  —  specu- 
lative wisdom.  Philosophy  is  thus,  literally,  a  love 
of  wisdom.  But  if  the  grammatical  meaning  of  the 
word  be  unambiguous,  the  history  of  its  application 
is  involved  in  considerable  doubt.  According  to  the 
commonly  received  account,  the  designation  of  phi- 
losopher was  first  assumed  and  applied  by  Pythag- 
oras ;  but  this  rests  on  very  slender  authority.  It 
is  probable,  I  think,  that  Socrates  was  the  first  who 
adopted,  or,  at  least,  the  first  who  familiarized,  the 

18 


20 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


hi 


(!. 


b  > 


Ifi 


expression.  It  was  natnrni  that  he  should  be  anxious 
to  contradistinguish  himself  from  the  Sophists  (of 
ao<poi^  ul  aocfiazai),  literally,  the  wise  men;  and  no 
term  could  more  appropriately  ridicule  the  arrogance 
of  these  pretenders,  or  afford  a  happier  contrast  to 
their  haughty  designation,  than  that  of  philosopher, 
(i.  e.,  the  lover  of  wisdom)  ;  and  at  the  same  time  it  is 
certain  that  the  substantives  fdoan^ia  and  (piXdaixpoq  first 
appear  in  the  writings  of  the  Socratic  school.  It  is 
true,  indeed,  that  the  verb  fdoao'puv  is  found  in  Herod- 
otus (I.  30)  ;  and  that,  too,  in  a  participial  form,  to 
designate  a  man  who  had  travelled  abroad  for  the 
purpose  of  acquiring  knowledge.  It  is,  therefore, 
not  impossible  that,  before  the  time  of  Socrates, 
those  who  devoted  themselves  to  the  pursuit  of  the 
higher  branches  of  knowledge  were  occasionally 
designated  philosophci-s ;  but  it  is  far  more  probable 
that  Socrates  and  his  school  first  appropriated  the 
term  as  a  distinctive  appellation ;  and  that  the  word 
philosophy,  in  consequence  of  this  appropriation, 
came  to  be  employed  for  the  complement  of  all 
higher  knowlcclge,  and  more  especially  to  denote  the 
science  conversant  about  the  principles  or  causes  of 
existence.  '^'^ 

(25)  Real  Definition  of  Philosophy.  It  is,  per- 
haps, impossible  adequately  to  define  philosophy. 
For  what  is  to  be  defined  comprises  what  cannot  be 
included  in  a  single  definition.  For  philosophy  is 
not  regarded  from  a  single  point  of  view ;  it  is  some- 
times considered  as  theoretical,  that  is,  in  relation  to 
man  as  a  thinking  and  cognitive  intelligence  ;  some- 
times as  practical,  that  is,  in  relation  to  man   as  a 


I 


sin  inLLiAM  Hamilton's  rniLOsopnr. 


21 


moral  agent ;  and  sometimes  as  comprehending  both 
theory  and  practice.  Again,  philosophy  may  either 
be  regarded  objectively,  that  is,  as  a  complement  of 
truth  known  ;  or  subjectively,  that  is,  as  a  habit  or 
qualit}^  of  the  mind  knowing.  In  these  circumstances 
I  shall  nf>t  attempt  a  definition  of  philosophy,  but 
shall  endeavor  to  accomplish  the  end  which  every 
definition  proposes,  —  make  you  understand,  as  pre- 
cirely  as  the  imprecise  nature  of  the  object-matter 
permits,  what  is  meant  by  philosophy,  and  "what  are 
the  sciences  it  properly  comprehends  within  its 
sphere. 

All  pliilosophy  is  knowledge,  but  all  knowledge 
is  not  pliilosophy.  Philosophy  is,  therefore,  a  kind 
of  knowledge.  Vrhat,  then,  is  philosophical  knowl- 
edge, and  how  is  it  discriminated  from  knowledge 
in  general  ? 

I.  "We  are  endowed  by  our  Creator  with  certain 
faculties  of  observation,  which  enable  us  to  become 
aware  of  certain  appearances  or  phenomena.  These 
faculties  may  be  stated  as  two,  —  Sense  or  External 
Perception,  and  Self-Consciousness  or  Internal  Per- 
ception ;  and  these  faculties  severally  afford  us  the 
knowdcdge  of  a  different  series  of  phenomena.  (1.) 
Through  our  senses  we  appr(>hcnd  w^hat  exists  or 
what  occurs  in  the  external  or  material  w^orld ;  (2.) 
By  our  self-consciousness,  what  is  or  what  occurs  in 
the  internal  world  or  world  of  thought.  The  infor- 
mation which  we  thus  receive  is  called  Historical  or 
Empirical  knowledge. 

1.  It  is  called  historical^  because,  in  this  knowl- 
edge, we  know  only  the  fact,  only  that  the  phenome- 


22 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


t 


non  is  ;  for  history  is  properly  only  the  narration  of  a 
consecutive  series  of  phenomena  in  time,  or  the 
description  of  a  coexistent  series  of  phenomena  in 
space.  Civil  history  is  an  example  of  the  one ; 
natural  history,  of  the  other. 

2.  It  is  called  empirical  or  experiential ^  if  we 
might  use  that  term,  because  it  is  given  us  by  experi- 
ence or  observation,  and  not  obtained  as  the  result  of 
inference  or  reasoning. 

Historical  or  empirical  knowledge  is,  therefore, 
simply  the  knowledge  that  something  is.  Were  we 
to  use  the  expression,  the  knoicledge  that,  it  would 
sound  awkward  and  unusual  in  our  modern  lan- 
guages. In  Greek,  the  most  philosophical  of  all 
tongues,  its  parallel,  however,  was  familiarly  cm- 
ployed.    It  was  called  rd  art,  that  is,  ^  yvivat^  oTt  e'ffTiv,    I 

should  notice,  that  with  us  theknoivledge  that,  is  com- 
monly called  the  knowledge  of  ihafact.  As  examples 
of  empirical  knowledge,  take  the  facts,  whether  known 
in  our  own  experience  or  on  the  testified  experience 
of  others,  that  a  stone  falls,  —  that  smoke  ascends,  — 
that  the  leaves  bud  in  spring,  and  fall  in  autumn,  — 
that  such  a  book  contains  such  a  passage, — that  such 
a  passage  contains  such  an  opinion,  —  that  Ctesar,  that 
Charlemagne,  that  Napoleon  existed. 

II.  But  things  do  not  exist,  events  do  not  occur, 
isolated  —  apart  —  by  themselves  ;  they  occur,  and  are 
conceived  by  us,  only  in  connection.  Our  observation 
affords  us  no  example  of  a  phenomenon  Avhich  is  not 
an  effect ;  nay,  our  thought  cannot  even  realize  to  it- 
self the  possibility  of  a  phenomenon  without  a  cause. 
Wc  do  not  at  present  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the 


SIR   WILLIAM  HAMILTOX'S   PHILOSOPnT. 


23 


connection  of  effect  and  cause,  either  in  reality  or  in 
tliought.  It  is  sufficient  for  our  present  purpose  to 
observe  that,  while,  by  the  constitution  of  our  nature, 
we  are  unable  to  conceive  anything  to  begin  to  be 
Avithout  referring  it  to  some  cause,  —  still  the  knowl- 
edge of  its  particular  cause  is  not  involved  in  the 
knowledge  of  any  particular  effect.  By  this  necessity, 
which  we  are  under,  of  thinking  some  cause  for  every 
phenomenon  ;  and  by  our  original  ignorance  of  what 
particular  causes  belong  to  what  particular  effects,  — 
it  is  rendered  impossible  for  us  to  acquiesce  in  the 
mere  knowledge  of  the  fact  of  a  phenomenon ;  on 
the  contrary,  we  are  determined,  we  are  necessi- 
tated, to  regard  each  phenomenon  as  only  partially 
knoAvn,  until  we  discover  the  causes  on  which  it  de- 
pends for  its  existence.  For  example,  we  are  struck 
with  the  appearance  in  the  heavens  called  a  rainbow. 
Think  we  cannot  that  this  phenomenon  has  no  cause, 
though  wo  may  be  wholly  ignorant  of  what  that  cause 
is.  Now,  our  knowledge  of  the  phenomenon  as  a 
mere  fact  —  as  a  mere  isolated  event  —  does  not 
content  us  ;  we  therefore  set  about  an  inquiry  into  the 
cause,  —  which  the  constitution  of  our  mind  compels 
us  to  suppose,  —  and  at  length  discover  that  the  rain- 
bow is  the  effect  of  the  refraction  of  the  solar  rays  by 
the  watery  particles  of  a  cloud.  Having  ascertained 
the  cause,  but  not  till  then,  we  are  satisfied  that  we 
fully  know  the  effect. 

Kow,  this  knowledge  of  the  cause  of  a  phenomenon 
is  different  from,  is  something  more  than,  the  knowl- 
edge of  that  phenomenon  simply  as  a  fact ;  and  these 
two  cognitions  or  knowledges  have,  accordingly,  re- 


24 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


ill 


ir 


ceived  different  names.  The  latter,  wc  have  seen,  is 
called  historical  or  empirical  knowledge ;  the  former 
is  called  philosophical  or  scientific  or  rational  knowl- 
edge. Historical,  is  the  knowledge  that  a  thing  is ; 
philosophical,  the  knowledge  why  or  hoio  it  is.  The 
Greek  language  well  expresses  philosophical  knowl- 
edge as  the  d'.oTt, — the  yvuxjiq  8i6ti  k'ffTt. 

Such  is  philosophical  knowledge  in  its  most  exten- 
sive signification ;  and  in  this  siguification  all  the  sci- 
ences occupied  in  the  research  of  causes  may  be 
viewed  as  so  many  branches  of  philosophy.  There  is, 
however,  one  section  of  these  sciences  which  is  de- 
nominated philosophical  by  pre-eminence, — sciences 
which  the  term  philosophy  exclusively  denotes,  when 
employed  in  propriety  and  rigor.  Wliat  these  sci- 
ences are,  and  why  the  term  philosophy  has  been  spe- 
cially limited  to  them,  I  shall  now  endeavor  to  make 
you  understand. 

"  ^lan,"  says  Protagoras,  "  is  the  measure  of  the 
universe  ; "  and  in  so  far  as  the  universe  is  an  object 
of  knowledge,  the  paradox  is  a  truth.  Whatever  we 
know,  or  endeavor  to  know,  we  know  and  can  know 
only  in  so  fiir  as  we  possess  a  faculty  of  knowing  in 
general ;  and  we  can  only  exercise  that  faculty  under 
the  laws  which  control  and  limit  its  operations.  How- 
ever great  and  infinite  and  various,  therefore,  may  be 
the  universe  and  its  contents,  these  are  known,  not  as 
the}'  exist,  but  as  our  mind  is  capable  of  knowing 
them. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  therefore,  as  philosophy  is  a 
knowledge,  and  as  all  knowledge  is  only  possible 
under  the  conditions  to  which  our  faculties  are  sub- 


sin  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  rniLosornr. 


25 


jected,  the  grand,  the  primary  problem  of  phik)sophy 
must  be  to  investigate  and  determine  these  conditions 
as  the  necessary  conditions  of  its  own  possibility. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  as  philosophy  is  not  merely 
a  knowledge,  but  a  knowledge  of  causes,  and  as  the 
mind  itself  is  the  universal  and  principal  concurrent 
cause  in  every  act  of  knowledge ;  philosophy  is,  con- 
sequently, bound  to  make  the  mind  its  first  and  para- 
mount object  of  consideration.  The  study  of  mind 
is  thus  the  philosophical  study  by  pre-eminence. 
There  is  no  branch  of  philosophy  which  does  not  sup- 
pose this  as  its  preliminary,  which  does  not  borrow 
from  this  its  light.  In  short,  the  si'nce  of  mind, 
whether  considered  in  itself  or  in  relation  to  the 
other  branches  of  knowledge,  constitutes  the  princi- 
pal and  most  important  object  of  philosophy,  —  con- 
stitutes in  propriety,  with  its  suite  of  dependent 
sciences,  philosophy  itself. 

From  what  has  been  said,  you  will,  without  a 
definition,  be  able  to  form  at  least  a  general  notion 
of  what  is  meant  by  philosophy.  In  its  more  exten- 
sive signification,  it  is  equivalent  to  a  knowledge  of 
things  hy  their  causes;  while,  in  its  stricter  meaning, 
it  is  confined  to  the  sciences  ichich  constitute,  or  hold 
immediatehj  of ,  the  science  of  mind.  {Metaph.,  Lec- 
ture III.) 

§   2.      CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  rniLOSOPHICAL   SCIENCES. 


The  whole  of  philosophy  is  an  answer  to  three 
questions  :  (1.)  What  are  the  Facts  or  Phenomena  to 
be  observed?     (2.)  What  are  the  Laws  which  regu- 


26 


^iV  OUTLINE   OF 


late  these  facts,  or  under  which  these  phenomena 
appear?  (3.)  What  are  the  real  Results,  not  imme- 
diately manifested,  which  these  facts  or  phenomena 
warrant  us  in  drawing? 

I.  If  we  consider  the  mind  merely  with  the  view 
of  observing  and  generalizing  the  various  phenomena 
it  reveals,  we  have  one  mental  science  or  one  depart- 
ment of  mental  science ;  and  this  we  may  call  the 
Phenomenology  of  Mind.  It  is  commonly  called 
PsycJwlogy,  —  Empirical  Psychology^  or  the  Induc- 
tive Philosophy  of  Mind :  we  might  call  it  Phenome- 
nal Psychology.  It  is  evident  that  the  divisions  of 
this  Science  will  be  determined  by  the  classes  into 
which  the  phenomena  of  mind  are  distributed.  I  shall 
hereafter  show  you  that  there  are  three  gi'cat  classes 
of  these  phenomena,  —  namely,  (l.)thc  phenomena 
of  our  Cognitive  faculties,  or  fiiculties  of  Knowl- 
edge;  (2.)  the  phenomena  of  our  Feelings,  or  of 
Pleasure  and  Pain ;  (3.)  the  phenomena  of  our  Coua- 
tive  powers,  or  of  Will  and  Desire. 

II.  If,  again,  we  analyze  the  mental  phenomena 
with  the  view  of  discovering  and  considering,  not 
contingent  appearances,  but  the  necessary  and  univer- 
sal facts,  that  is,  the  Laws,  by  which  our  faculties 
are  governed,  to  the  end  that  we  may  obtain  a  crite- 
rion by  which  to  judge  or  to  explain  their  proced- 
ures and  manifestations,  we  have  a  science  which  we 
may  call  the  homology  of  Mind,  or  Nomological  Psy- 
chology.     Now,   there    will    be   as   many   distinct 

5'»sses  of  Nomological  Psychology  as  there  are  distinct 
'      ?s  of  mental  phenomena  under  the  Phenomeno- 
!  ^".i^a!.  division. 


SIR  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  piulosopiit. 


27 


III.  The  third  great  branch  of  philosophy  is  that 
which  is  engaged  in  the  deduction  of  Inferences  or 
Results.  In  the  first  branch  philosopliy  is  properly 
limited  to  the  facts  afforded  in  consciousness,  con- 
sidered exclusively  in  themselves.  But  these  facts 
may  be  such  as  not  only  to  be  objects  of  knowledge 
in  themselves,  but  likewise  to  furnish  us  with  grounds 
of  inference  to  something  out  of  themselves.  As 
effects,  and  effects  of  a  certain  character,  they  may  ena- 
ble us  to  infer  the  analogous  character  of  their  unknown 
causes ;  as  phenomena,  and  phenomena  of  peculiar 
qualities,  they  may  warrant  us  in  drawing  many  con- 
clusions regarding  the  distinctive  character  of  that 
unknown  substance,  of  which  they  are  the  manifesta- 
tions. Now,  the  science  conversant  about  all  such 
inference  of  unknown  being  from  its  manifestations,  is 
called  Ontology,  or  Metaphysics  Proper.  AVe  might 
call  it  Inferential  Psychology. 

The  following  is  a  tabular  view  of  the  distribution 
of  philosophy  as  here  proposed  :  — 


Mind  or 

Consciousness 
affords 


/     I.  Cognitions. 

(A)  Facts,  of  which  tho  science  is  Phe- j 

<     II.  Feelings. 

NOMENAL  Psychology,  embracing     I 

\  III.   Conations. 
I.  Cognitions,  of  which  the  sciences 

(B)  Laws,  of  which 

I  tho  science  is  Nouo- 

I  LOGICAL    Psycholo- 
gy, embracing 

Politics. 

(C)  Results,   of    which    the    science    is    Infehbntial 
Psychology. 


are  Logic,  etc. 
II.  Feelings,  of  which  the  science 

is  Esthetic. 
III.  Conations,  of  which  the  sciences 
are    (1.)     Ethics    and    (2.) 


I 


FIRST  DIVISION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


II 


DE 


lis,  t: 


i     TJ 

'f 

^4  corn 

fphcn 


I    INTRODUCTION  TO  PHENOMENAL  PYSCIIOLOGY. 


I 

I  CHAPTER    I. 

;     DEFINITION. OF     THE    SCIENCE    AND    EXPLANATION    OF 

4  TEUM8    IN     THE    DEFINITION. 

I 

■    Vi 

j4  Phenomenal  Psychology  —  Psychology,  strictly 
1^1  so  dciioniiiiatod  —  is  the  science  conversjint  about  the 
^■_/;Z!eno>»e«rt  or  vwdijicatlons  or  states  of  the  Mind  or 
^H  Conscious  Suhjcd  or  Soul  or  Sj)irU  or  Self  or  Ego. 
^B  111  this  cleiiuitioii  I  have  purposely  uccumuUitctl  a 
^■variety  ot"  expressions,  in  order  that  I  might  have  the 
^Bcarlicst  opportunity  of  making  you  accurately  ac- 
^^quaintcd  "with  their  meaning.  Before,  therefore, 
proceeding  further,  I  shall  pause  a  moment  in  expla- 
j^l^iiation  of  the  terms  in  which  this  definition  is  cx- 
^^b)i'essed. 

|||w  The  term  PsychoJofjy  itself  is  a  Greek  compound, 
its  elements  being  ^I'oyr,,  signifying  soul  or  mind,  and 
■)y>Y<>:,  signifying  discourse  or  doctrine.  Psyche  logy 
is,  therefore,  the  discourse  or  doctrine  treating  of  the 
human  mind. 

The  above  definition  of  psj'chology  contains  two 
correlative  sets  of  terms,  —  the  one  desiijnatinor  the 
phenomena  of  knowing,  Avilling,  feeling,  desiring,  etc., 

31 


83 


AN   OUTLINE   OF 


ill  Avliicli  the  mind  becomes  known ;  the  other  clos- 
igiiiiting  tlio  mind,  considered  as  the  unknown  sub- 
stunco  to  wliich  tiiesc  phenomena  belong.  Of  the 
former  class  are  the  words  ^j/se/iOJ/ieyiOrt,  mode,  modiji- 
calion,  state;  and  to  these  may  be  added  the  analogous 
terms  quality,  2)rope)'tij,  attribute,  accident.  Of  the 
latter  class  arc  subject,  mind,  soul,  sjnrit,  self,  ego. 
.  {A)  Teums  expuessino  the  Manieestatioxs  or 
TUE  Mind.- 

I.  Phenomenon  is  the  Greek  word  for  that  which 
appears,  and  may  therefore  be  translated  hy^apjjcaraiice. 
There  is,  however,  a  distinction  to  be  noticed.  (1.)  In 
the  tirst  place,  the  employment  of  a  Greek  term  shows 
that  it  is  used  in  a  strict  and  philosophical  applica- 
tion. (2.)  In  the  second  place,  tlicterni  apjjearance  is 
used  to  denote  not  only  that  Avhich  reveals  itself  to 
our  observation,  as  existent,  but  also  that  which  only 
seems  to  be,  m  contrast  to  that  which  truly  is.  There 
is  tiius  not  merely  a  certain  vagueness  in  the  Avord, 
but  it  even  involves  a  kind  of  contradiction  to  the 
sense  in  which  it  is  used  when  employed  for  i^henome- 
non.  In  consequence  of  this,  the  term  phenomenon 
has  Ijccn  naturalized  in  our  language  as  a  philosoph- 
ical substitute  for  the  term  appearance.  The  terms 
phenomenon  and  appearance  areempioj^cd  in  reference 
to  a  substance,  as  known ;  the  remaining  terms,  in 
reference  to  a  substance,  as  exlsiiiig. 

II.  A  mode  is  the  manner  of  the  existence  of  any- 
thing. Take,  for  example,  a  piece  of  wax.  The  wax 
may  be  round,  or  square,  or  of  any  other  definite  fig- 
ure ;  it  may  also  be  solid  or  fluid.  Its  existence  in 
any  of  these  modes  is  not  essential ;  it  may  change 


I 


SIi:    WILLIAM  HAMILTON' a   PniLOSOl'HY. 


33 


er  tlcii- 
vn  8ub- 

Of  the 

modiji- 
uilogous 

Of  the 
e(jo. 

IONS     OF 

at  ivhich 
pcarance. 
.  (l.)In 
rm  shows 
\  applicii- 
earaace  is 
itself  to 
^hich  only 
There 
the  Avord, 
Dii  to  the 
phenome- 
LMiomeiiou 
)hilosoph- 
Che  terms 
reference 
terms,  iu 

le  of  aiiy- 

Tho  wax 

Icfiuite  fig- 

astence  in 

lay  change 


I 


from  one  to  the  other  witliout  any  substantial  altera- 
tion. As  the  mode  cannot  exist  without  a  Hubstnnee, 
we  can  accord  to  it  only  a  secondary  or  precarious 
existence  in  relation  to  the  substance,  to  which  wo  ac- 
cord the  privilege  of  existing  by  itself,  ^JO'-se  cxisfrre; 
but  though  the  substance  bo  not  restricted  to  any  i)ar- 
ticular  mode  of  existence,  we  must  not  suppose  tliat 
it  can  exist,  or  at  least  be  conceived  by  us  to  exist,  in 
none.  All  modes  are,  therefore,  varial)le  states  ;  and 
though  some  mode  is  necessary  for  the  existence  of  a 
thing,  any  individual  mode  is  accidental. 

III.  Modijicallon  is  properl}'  the  bringing  a  thing 
into  a  certain  mode  of  existence  ;  but  it  is  very  com- 
monly employed  for  the  mode  of  existence  itself. 

IV.  State  is  a  term  nearly  synonymous  with  mode, 
but  of  a  meanmg  more  extensive,  as  not  exclusively 
limited  to  the  mutable  and  contingent. 

V.  Qualilij  is,  likewise,  a  word  of  a  wider  signiti- 
cation,  for  there  are  essential  and  accidental  cpialities. 
(1.)  The  essendal  qualities  of  a  thing  are  those  apti- 
tudes, those  manners  of  existence  and  action,  which  it 
cannot  lose  without  ceasing  to  be.  For  example,  in  man, 
the  faculties  of  sense  and  intelligoncc  ;  in  body,  the  di- 
mensions of  length,  breadth,  and  thickness;  in  God, 
the  attributes  of  eternity,  omniscience,  omnipotence, 
etc.   (2.)  By  acc/f?e«^«?  qualities  are  meant  those  apti- 

.  tudes  and  manners  of  existence  and  action  which  sub- 
stances have  at  one  time  and  not  at  another,  or  whidi 
they  have  always,  but  may  lose  without  ceasing  to  be. 
(a)  For  example,  of  the  transitory  class  are  the 
whiteness  of  a  wall,  the  health  which  we  enjoy,  the 
luieness  of  the  weather,  etc.     (b)   Of  the  permanent 


84 


^.V  OUTLINE   OF 


.;  i 


class  arc  the  gravity  of  bodies,  tlie  periodical  move- 
ment of  the  planets,  etc. 

VI.  Attribute  is  a  word  properly  convertible  with 
quality i  for  every  quality  is  an  attribute,  and  every 
attribute  is  a  quality ;  but  in  our  language.,  custom 
has  introduced  a  certain  distinction  in  their  application. 
Attribute  is  considered  as  a  word  of  loftier  siiynifi- 
cancc,  and  is,  therefore,  conventionally  limited  to  qual- 
ities of  a  higher  application.  Thus,  for  example,  it 
would  be  felt  as  indecorous  to  speak  of  the  qualities 
of  God,  and  as  ridiculoas  to  talk  of  the  attributes  of 
matter. 

VII.  Projpertu  is  correctly  a  synonym  for  peculiar 
quality ;  but  it  is  frequently  used  as  coextensive  with 
quality  in  general. 

VIII.  Accident,  on  the  contrary,  is  an  abbreviated 
expression  for  accidental  or  contingent  quality. 

(J5)  Terms  expressing  the  unknown  Basis  of 
MENTAL  Phenomena. 

I.  The  word  mind  is  of  a  more  limited  application 
than  the  term  soul.  In  the  Greek  Philosophy  the 
term  s''oyy],  soul,  comprehends,  besides  the  scnsitivr 
and  rational  principle  in  man,  the  principle  of  organic 
life  both  in  the  animal  and  vcijctable  kingdoms. 

Since  Descartes  liniitcd  psychology  to  the  domain 
of  consciousness,  the  term  mind  has  been  rigidly  em- 
ploye !  for  the  self-knowing  principle  alone.  jNIind, 
therefore,  is  to  be  understood  as  the  sul)ject  of  the 
various  internal  phenomena  of  which  we  are  con- 
scious. 

II.  The  term  subject  (subjecfum,  u-ofTTarriq,  u-()x-:{;j.svir,^ 
is  used    to   denote    the    unknown   basis   which   lies 


S 


Sm    WILLIAM   nAMrLTON\s    PHILOSOPnr. 


85 


move- 

e  with 
every 
custom 
ication. 
signifi- 
to  qual- 
nple,  it 
qualities 
(iitcs  of 

peculiar 
ivc  witli 

ircviatcd 

iASIS    OF 

plicatiou 

|pby  the 

lensitivr 

I'  orccauic 

domaiu 
lidly  cm- 
jNIind, 
It  of  the 
larc  con- 

liich  lies 


under  the  phenomena  of  Avliioh  we  become  aM'arc, 
whether  hi  our  external  or  internal  experience.  But 
the  philosophers  of  mind  have,  in  a  manner,  usurped 
and  appropriated  this  expression  to  themselves.  Ac- 
cordingly in  their  hands  the  plirases,  conscious  or 
tldnl-iiKj  subject,  and  subject  simply,  mean  precisely 
the  same  thing ;  and  custom  has  prevailed  so  far  that, 
in  psychological  eliscussions,  the  subject  is  a  term  now 
currently  employed  throughout  Europe  for  the  mind 
or  tJiinlciiifj  principle.  The  utility  of  this  expression 
is  founded  on  two  circumstances.  The  first  is  that  it 
affords  an  adjective  ;  the  second,  that  the  terms  sub- 
ject and  subjective  have  opposing  relatives  in  the  terms 
object  and  objective,  so  that  the  two  pairs  of  words  to- 
gether enable  us  to  designate  the  primary  and  most 
important  analysis  and  antithesis  of  philosophy  in  a 
more  precise  and  eni[)liatic  manner  than  can  be  done 
by  any  other  technical  expressions.  Sul)ject,  we  have 
seen,  is  a  term  for  that  in  which  the  phenomena,  re- 
vealed to  our  observation,  inhere,  —  what  the  school- 
men have  designated  the  nmteria  in  qua.  Limited  to 
the  mental  phenomena,  subject,  therefore,  denotes  the 
mind  itself;  and  subjective,  that  which  bch)ngs  to,  or 
proceeds  from,  the  thinking  subject.  Object,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  a  term  for  that  about  Avliich  the  know- 
ing subject  is  conversant,  —  what  the  schoolmen  have 
sty\cd  tho  materia  circa  quani;  while  objective  iwoiui^ 
that  Avhich  belongs  to,  or  proceeds  from,  the  object 
known  ;  and  thus  denotes  what  is  real  in  opposition  to 
what  is  ideal, — what  exists  in  nature  in  contrast  to 
what  exists  merely  in  the  thought  of  the  individual. 
III.  The  terms  seT/'and  ego  we  shall  take  together,  as 


36 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  HAMILTON'S   PHILOSOmY. 


I 


thoy  are  absolutely  convertible.  The  self,  the  I,  is 
recognized  in  every  act  of  intelligence,  as  the  sub- 
ject to  which  that  act  belongs.  It  is  I  that  perceive, 
I  that  imagine,  I  that  remember,  I  that  attend,  I  that 
compare,  I  that  feel,  I  that  desire,  I  that  will,  I  that 
am  conscious.  The  I,  indeed,  is  only  manifested  in 
one  or  other  of  these  special  modes ;  but  it  is  mani- 
fested in  them  all ;  they  are  all  only  the  phenomena 
of  the  I,  and,  therefore,  the  science  conversant  about 
the  phenomena  of  mind  is,  most  simply  and  iniam- 
biguously,  said  to  be  conversant  al)out  the  phenom- 
ena of  the  /  or  Ego.  This  expression,  as  that 
which,  in  many  relations,  best  marks  and  discrimi- 
nates the  conscious  mind,  has  now  become  familiar 
in  every  country,  with  the  exception  of  our  own. 
Why  it  has  not  been  naturalized  with  us  is  not  uuap^ 
l>arent.  In  English  the  /could  not  l)e  tolerated; 
because,  in  sound,  it  would  not  be  distinguished  from 
the  word  si<>:nificant  of  the  origan  of  sinht.  We 
must,  therefore,  either  renounce  the  term,  or  resort 
to  the  Latin  Ego;  and  this  is  perliaps  no  disadvan- 
tage, for,  as  the  w^ord  is  only  employed  in  a  strictly 
philosophical  relation,  it  is  l)etter  that  tliis  should  be 
distinctly  marked,  l)y  its  being  used  in  that  relation 
alone.  The  term  self  h  more  allowable  ;  yCt  still  the 
expressions  Ego  and  Non-Ego  are  felt  to  be  less  aw'k- 
ward  than  those  of  Self  and  Not-Self.  (^Lectures  on 
Metaphysics,  VIII.  and  IX.)     . 


5%» 
■J 


I 


3  I,  is 
}  sub- 
•ccive, 
I  that 
I  that 
ted  in 
mani- 
lomcna 
\  about 
iniam- 
icnom- 
s    that 
scrimi- 
amiliar 
r  own. 
t  unap- 
cM'atcd ; 
h1  from 
We 
r  resort 
sadvan- 
istrictly 
)nld  be 
relation 
still  the 
■ss  awk- 
iiiYCS  on 


CHAPTER    II. 

CONSCIOUSNESS   IN   GENERAL. 

In  taking  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  mental 
phenomena,  these  are  all  seen  to  comprise  one  essen- 
tial clement,  or  to  be  possible  only  luider  one 
necessary  condition.  This  clement  or  condition  is 
consciousness,  or  the  knowledge  that  I,  —  that  the 
Ego  exists,  in  some  determinate  state.  In  this 
knowledge  they  appear  or  are  realized  as  phenomena, 
and  with  this  knowledge  they  likewise  disappear,  or 
have  no  longer  a  piienomenal  existence  ;  so  that  con- 
sciousness may  be  compared  to  an  internal  light,  by 
means  of  which,  and  which  alone,  what  passes  in  the 
mind  is  rendered  visible.  It  foUoAVS,  therefore,  that 
consciousness  must  form  the  iirst  object  of  our  con- 
sideration. 


§  1.     coxsciousxEss :  its  general  nature. 

Xothing  has  contributed  more  to  spread  ol,)scurity 
over  a  very  transparent  matter  than  the  attempts  of 
philosophers  to  define  consciousness.  Consciousness 
cannot  be  defined;  we  may  be  ourselves  fully  aware 
what  consciousness  is,  but  we  cannot,  without  confu- 
sion, convey  to  others  a  definition  of  what  wo  our- 
selves   clearly   apprehend.      The    reason    is    plain. 

37 


'W^ 


38 


Ay  OVTLINE    OF 


i 


Consciousness  lies  at  the  root  of  all  knowledge. 
Consciousness  is  itself  the  one  liisrhest  source  of  all 
compreliensibility  and  illustration ;  how,  then,  can 
we  find  aught  else  by  which  consciousness  may  be 
illustrated  or  comprehended?  To  accomplish  this,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  have  a  second  consciousness, 
throuirh  which  we  miiirht  be  conscious  of  the  mode  in 
which  the  first  consciousness  was  possilile.  In  short, 
the  notion  of  consciousness  is  so  elementary,  that  it 
cannot  possibly  be  resolved  into  others  more  simple. 
It  cannot,  therefore,  be  brou2:ht  under  anv  a'cnus,  — 
any  more  general  conception;  and,  consequently,  it 
cannot  be  defined.  But  thous-li  consciousness  cannot 
be  logically  defined,  it  may,  however,  bo  philosophi- 
cally analyzed.  This  analysis  is  effected  by  observing 
and  holding  fast  the  phenomena  or  facts  of  conscious- 
ness, comparing  these,  and,  from  this  comparison, 
evfdving  the  universal  conditions  under  which  alone 
an  act  of  consciousness  is  possible. 

But  before  proceeding  to  show  you  in  detail  what 
the  act  of  consciousness  comprises,  it  may  be  proper, 
in  the  first  place,  to  recall  to  you,  in  general,  Avhat 
kind  of  act  the  word  is  employed  to  denote.  I 
know,  I  feel,  I  desire,  etc.  What  is  it  that  is  neces- 
sarily involved  in  all  these?  It  requires  only  to  be 
stated  to  be  admitted,  that  when  I  knf)W,  I  must 
know  that  I  know,  — when  I  foci,  I  must  know  that 
I  feel.  —  when  I  desire,  I  mnst  know  that  I  desire. 
The  knowledge,  the  feeling,  the  desire,  are  possible 
onlv  under  the  condition  of  beinij  knoAvn,  and  beins: 
known  by  me.  For  if  I  did  not  know  that  I  knew, 
I  would  not  know ;    if  I  did   not  know  that  I  felt,  I 


SIB    WILLIAM  HAMILTON  S  PIIILOSOPIIY. 


39 


l)eing 
knew, 
felt,  I 


would  net  feel ;    if  I  did  not  know  that  I  desired,  I 
would  not  desire.      Now,  this  knowledge,  Avhich  I, 
the  subject,  have  of  these  modifications  of  my  being, 
und  through  which  knowledge  alone  these  modilica- 
tions  arc  possiljle,  is  what  we  call  conftciousnei^s.    Tho 
expressions  I  know  that  I  hioio;    I  KiioiD  that  I  feel; 
I    hioio    that    I    desire ;    arc   thus    translated    by, 
/  am  conscious  that  I  know ;  I  am  conscious  that  I 
feel;  I  am  conscious  that  I  desire.     Consciousness  is 
thus,  on  the  one  hand,  the  recognition  by  the  mind 
or  ego  of  its  acts  and  affections;  —  in  other  words, 
the    self-aiErmation     that    certain    modifications   are 
known  by  me,  and  that  these  modifications  are  mine. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  consciousness  is  not  to  be 
viewed  as  anvthini'  different  from  these  modifications 
themselves,  but  is,  in  fact,  the  general  condition  of 
their   existence,    or   of    their    existence    within    tho 
sphere  of  intelligence.     Though  tho  simplest  act  of 
mind,  consciousness  thus  expresses  a  relation  subsist- 
ing l)etween  two  terms.     These  terms  are,  on  the  one 
hand,  an  I  or  Self,  as  the  subject  of  a  certain    modi- 
fication;    and,   on    the    other    hand,     some    modifi- 
cation, state,  quality,  affection,  or  operation  belong- 
ing   to    the    sul)ject.     Consciousness,    thus,    in    it?^ 
simplicity,  necessarily  involves  three  thiugs,  —  (1.)  a 
recoguizing  orknowiug  sul)ject;  (2.)  a  recognized  or 
known  modification  ;  and  (3.)  a  recognition  or  knowl- 
edge by  the  subject  of  the  modification. 

AVc  ma}',  therefore,  lay  it  down  as  tho  most  general 
characteristic  of  consciousness,  that  it  is  the  recor/ni- 
tion  by  the  thinlcing  subject  of  its  own  acts  or  affec- 
tions. 


40 


AN   OUTLINE   OF 


§    2.       CONSCIOUSNESS :   ITS   SPECIAL    CONDITIONS. 

In  this,  the  most  general  ch.'inictcristic  of  con- 
sciousness, all  philosophers  are  agreed.  The  more 
arduous  task  remains  of  determining  its  special  con- 
ditions. Of  these,  likewise,  some  arc  almost  too 
palpable  to  admit  of  controversy. 

(A)  Before  proceeding  to  those  in  regard  to  which 
there  is  any  doubt  or  difficulty,  it  will  be  proper,  in 
the  first  place,  ^  .  'c  and  to  dispose  of  such  dcter- 
minat"'^ns  as  arc  y  ipa1)lo  to  be  called  in  question. 
Of  tl  ?se  admitted  limitations, 

I.  The  first  is,  t)  -t  C(^''<-""ionsness  is  an  actual  and 
not  a  potential  knoivledy:'.  Thus  a  man  is  said  to 
know,  that  is,  is  able  to  know,  that  7 -{- 9  arc  =^--  10, 
though  that  equation  bo  not,  at  the  moment,  the 
object  of  thought ;  but  we  cannot  s:iy  that  he  is  con- 
scions  of  this  truth  unless  while  it  is  actually  present 
to  his  mind. 

II.  The  second  limitation  is,  that  consciousness  is 
an  immediate,  not  a  mediate  knoidedge.  We  are  said, 
for  example,  to  know  a  past  occurrence  when  we 
represent  it  to  the  mind  in  an  act  of  memory.  We 
know  the  mental  representation,  and  this  we  do  im- 
mediately and  in  itself,  and  arc  also  said  to  know  the 
past  occurrence,  as  mediately  knowing -it  through  the 
mental  modification  which  represents  it.  Now,  we 
are  conscious  of  the  representation  as  immediately 
known  ;  but  Ave  cannot  be  said  to  be  conscious  of  the 
thing  represented,  which,  if  known,  is  only  known 
through  its  representation. 


^  sc\ 
ai'( 


,.s 


SIR    WILLIAM  HAMILTON  S   PniLOSOPJIY. 


41 


con- 
more 
1  con- 
it   too 

which 

per,  m 

dctcr- 

estion. 

.al  and 
said  to 
c  -  16, 
nt,  the 
is  con- 
n'cscnt 

sncss  is 
re  said, 
hen  we 
We 
do  ira- 
liiow  the 
uirh  the 
)\v,    we 
cdiatcly 
s  of  the 
known 


Y 


III.  The  third  condition  of  consciousness,  which 
may  be  held  as  universally  admitted,  is,  that  it  sup- 
poses a  contrast,  —  a  discrimination;  for  we  can  bo 
conscious  only  inasmuch  as  we  are  conscious  of  some- 
thing ;  aud  we  are  conscious  of  something  only  inas- 
much as  we  are  conscious  of  what  that  something 
is,  —  that  is,  distinguish  it  from  what  it  is  not.  This 
discrimination  is  of  different  kinds  and  degrees.  (I.) 
In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  contrast  between  the 
two  grand  ojiposites,  self  and  not-self,  —  ego  and 
non-cijo,  —  mind  and  matter.  We  are  conscious 
of  self  only  in  and  by  its  contradistinction  from 
not-self;  and  arc  conscious  of  not-self  only  in 
and  by  its  contradistinction  from  self.  (2.)  In 
the  second  place,  there  is  the  discrimination  of 
the  states  or  modifications  of  the  internal  subject 
or  self  from  each  other.  We  are  conscious  of  one 
mental  state  only  as  Ave  contradistinguish  it  from 
another ;  whore  two,  three,  or  more  such  states  are 
confounded,  we  are  conscious  of  them  as  one  ;  and 
were  we  to  note  no  diflerencc  in  our  mental  moclificji- 
tions,  we  might  be  said  to  be  absolutely  unconscious. 
(3.)  In  the  third  place,  there  is  the  distinction 
between  the  parts  and  qualities  of  the  outer  world. 
We  are  conscious  of  an  external  object  only  as  wo 
are  conscious  of  it  as  distinct  from  others ;  where 
several  distinguishable  objects  are  confounded,  we 
are  conscious  of  them  as  one  ;  where  no  object  is  dis- 
criminated, we  are  not  conscious  of  any.^ 

IV.  The  fourth  condition  of  consciousness,  which 

'  See  this  sul.jocl  treated  more  fully  under  Phenomenology  of  the 
Cognitions.  Cliap.  V.,  §  1. 


42 


AX  OUTIASE    OF 


may  be  assumed  as  very  generally  ackiiowletlged,  is, 
that  it  involves  judgment.^  A  judgment  is  the  men- 
tal act  by  Avhieh  one  thing  is  affirmed  or  denied  of 
another.  This  fourth  condition  is  in  truth  only  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  tliird,  —  for  it  is  im- 
possible to  discriminate  without  judging,  discrimi- 
nation or  contradistinction  being,  in  foct,  only  the 
denying  one  thing  of  another. 

V.  The  fifth  undeniable  condition  of  consciousness 
is  memory.  This  condition  also  is  a  corollary  of  the 
third.  For  without  memory  our  mental  states  could 
not  be  held  fast,  compared,  distinguished  from  each 
other,  and  referred  to  self.  Without  memory,  each 
indivisible,  each  infinitesimal,  moment  in  the  mental 
succession  would  stand  isolated  from  each  other,  — 
would  constitute,  in  fact,  a  separate;  existence.  The 
notion  of  the  ego,  or  self,  arises  from  the  recognized 
permanence  and  identity  of  tuc  thinking  subject  in 
contrast  to  the  recognized  succession  and  variety  of 
its  modifications.  But  this  recognition  is  possible  only 
through  memory.  The  notion  of  self  is,  therefore, 
the  result  of  memory.  But  the  notion  of  self  is  in- 
volved in  consciousness,  so  consequently  is  memory. 
(Lecf.  on  Bleta'ph.,  XI.  Compare  IteitVs  Works,  pp. 
932-7.) 

(7?)  We  are  now  about  to  enter  on  a  more  disputed 
territory.  A'-istotlc,  Descartes,  Locke,  and  philoso- 
phers in  general,  have  regarded  consciousness,  not  as 
a  particular  faculty,  but  as  the  universal  condition  of 
intelligence.  Rcid,  on  the  contrary,  following,  prob- 
ably,  riutcheson,  and  followed  by  Stewart,  Royer- 

'  Sec  note  on  preceding  page. 


,pk* 


sin  mi.LrA.u  tiamiltox  s  pniLosopnT. 


43 


)(.lgetl,  is, 

the  meii- 

tlcniod  of 

th  only  a 

it   is  im- 

discrimi- 

oiily  the 

sciousness 
ary  of  the 
ates  could 
from  each 
nory,  each 
the  mental 
1  other, — 
mce.     The 
recognized 
subject  in 
ariety  of 
iblc  only 
hcrcforo, 
self  is  in- 
memory. 
AwJcs,  pp. 

e  disputed 
d  philoso- 
ss,  not  as 
ndition  of 
ing,  prob- 
•t,  Royer- 


s^ 


Collard,  and  others,  has  classed  consciousness  as  a  co- 
ordinate faculty  with  the  other  inteUectual  powers  ; 
di'^tiniruislu'd  from  them,  uot  as  the  species  from  the 
individual,  but  as  the  individual  from  the  individual. 
And  a-  the  jiarticular  faculties  have  each  their  peculiar 
ol)jcct,  so  the  peculiar  object  of  consciousness  is  the 
o^jerations  of  the  other  faculties  themselves^  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  the  objects  about  which  these  operations  are 
conversant. 

This  analysis  we  regard  as  false. ^  For  it  is  impos- 
si])]c,  in  the  first  place,  to  discriminate  consciousness 
from  all  the  other  cognitive  fticulties,  or  to  discrimi- 
nate any  one  of  these  from  consciousness  ;  and,  in  the 
second,  to  conceive  a  faculty  cognizant  of  the  various 
mental  operations,  without  being  also  cognizant  of 
their  several  ol)jects. 

I.  We  knoiv,  and  We  know  that  ice  Jcnoiv:  —  these 
propositions,  loijkalhj  distinct,  are  really  identical ; 
each  implies  the  other.  We  know  (i.  e.,  feel,  per- 
ceive, imagine,  remember,  etc.)  only  as  we  hioiu  that 
tve  thus  know;  and  we  know  that  ice  knoiv,  only  as  we 
know  in  some  particular  manner  (i.  a.,  feel, perceive, 
etc.).  vSo  true  is  the  scholastic  brocard  :  ^^ Nbn  senti- 
miis  nisi  sentianms  nos  sentire;  non  sentimus  nos  sen- 
lire  nisi  senfiamus."     The   attempt   to   analyze   the 

k  '  Tliis  is  described  l)y  Hamilton  as  "tlie^rs^  contested  position," 
"'wliieh  he  intends  to  maintain,  witli  regard  to  consciousness  {Led.  on 

Metaph.,  p.  143,  Am.  ed.);  but  it  leads  him  into  a  long  digression 

(Jhid.,  pp. 143-182),  at  the  close  of  which  there  is  no  mention  of  any 
:-Ot]ier"  contested  positions.  Did  this  digression  cause  him  to  forgot 
^his  apparent  intention  to  continue  the  subject  from  which  he  started  ? 

His  editors  give    no    indication    that    they    have    observed    tliis 

omission.  —  J.  C.  M. 


44 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


1  ! 


ii 


cognition  I  know,   and  the  cognition  I  know  that  1 
knoiv,  into  the  separate  energies  of  distinct  facnlties, 
is  therefore  vain,     lint  this  is  tlic  analysis  of  Kcid. 
Consciousness,  which  the  formula  I  know  that  Iknoio 
adequately  expresses,  ho  views  as  a  power  specificall}'^ 
distinct  from  the  various  cognitive  faculties  compre- 
hended under  the  formula  /  knoiv,  precisely  as  tliese 
faculties  are  severally  contradistinguished  from  each 
other.     But  here  the  parallel  docs  not  hold.     I  can 
feel  without  perceiving ;  I  can  perceive  without  imag- 
ining ;    I  can  imagine  without  remembering ;  I  can 
remember  without  judging  (in  the  emphatic  significa- 
tion) ;  I  can  judge  without  willing.  One  of  these  acts 
does   not  immediately   suppose   the   other.     Though 
modes  merely  of  the  same  indivisible  subject,  they  are 
modes  in  relation  to  each  other,  really  distinct,  and  ad- 
mit, therefore,  of  psychological  discrimination.     But 
can  I  feel  without  being  conscious  that  I  feel?  —  can 
I  remember  Avithout  being  conscious  that  I  remember? 
or,  can  I  be  conscious  without  being  conscious  that  I 
perceive,  or  imagine,  or  reason,  — that  I  energize,  in 
short,  in  some  determinate  mode,  which  Keid  would 
view  as  the  act  of  a  faculty  speciiically  diftereut  from 
consciousness?     That  this  is  impossible  Reid  himself 
admits.     But  if,  on  the  one  hand,  consciousness  bo 
only  realized  under  specific  modes,  and  cannot  there- 
fore exist  apart  from  the  several  faculties  in  cumulo; 
and  if,  on  the  other,  these  faculties  can  all  and  each 
only  be  exerted  under  the  condition  of  consciousness ; 
consciousness,  consequently,  is  not  one  of  the  special 
modes  into  which  our  mental  activity  may  be  resolved, 
but  the  fundamental  form, — the  generic  condition  of 


Sl/i    WILLIAM  HAMILTOS  S   PHILOSOPnY. 


45 


now  that  I 
■t  faculties, 
s  of  Kekl. 
hat  Ihiow 
specifically 
OS  coiupi'C- 
(ly  as  these 
from  each 
old.     I  can 
thout  imag- 
•ing  ;  I  can 
ic  sigiiifica- 
if  these  acts 
ir.     Though 
■set,  they  are 
net,  and  ad- 
ation.     But 
feel?  — can 
remenibcr? 
:>ious  that  I 
energize,  in 
ieid  would 
tereiit  from 
:cid  himself 
lousness  ho 
mnot  there- 
in cumulo; 
i\\  and  each 
isciousncss ; 
the  special 
3e  resolved, 
ioudition  of 


them  all.  Every  intelligent  act  is  thus  n  modified 
consciousness ;  and  conseiousness  a  comprehensive 
term  for  the  complement  of  oui  cognitive  energies. 

II.  But  the  vice  of  Keid's  auj/jsis  is  further  mani- 
fested in  his  arhitrar}'  limitation  of  tlie  sphere  of  con- 
sciousness ;  proposing  to  it  the  various  intellectual 
operations,  but  excluding  their  objects.  "I  am  con- 
scious," he  says,  "of  perception,  hut  not  of  the  object 
I  perceive  ;  I  am  conscious  of  memory,  but  uot  of  the 
o])ject  I  remember." 

The  reduction  of  consciousness  to  a  particular  fac- 
ulty entailed  this  limitiition.  For,  once  admitting 
consciousness  to  be  cognizant  of  ohjects  as  of  o_perations, 
Rcid  could  not,  without  absurdity,  degrade  it  to  the 
level  of  a  special  power.  For  thus,  in  ihojirst  place, 
consciousness,  coextensive  with  all  our  cognitive  fac- 
ulties, would  yet  be  made  co-ordinate  with  each;  and 
in  the  second,  two  faculties  would  be  supposed  to  be 
simultaneously  exercised  about  the  same  object,  to 
the  same  extent. 

But  the  alternative  which  Reid  has  chosen  is,  at 
least,  equally  untenable.  The  assertion  that  we  can 
be  conscious  of  an  act  of  knowledijc  without  beinij 
conscious  of  its  object,  is  virtually  suicidal.  A  men- 
U  tal  operation  is  only  what  it  is  by  relation  to  its  ob- 
ject ;  the  object  at  once  determining  its  existence,  and 
%  specifying  the  character  of  its  existence.  But  if  a 
relation  cannot  be  comprehended  in  one  of  its  terms, 
so  wo  cannot  be  conscious  of  an  operation  w^ithout 
being  conscious  of  the  ol)ject  to  which  it  exists  only 
as  correlative.  For  example,  We  are  conscious  of  a 
])crception,  says  Eeid,  but  are  not  conscious  of  its 


4C 


AN  OVTLIKE   OF 


object.  Yet  how  can  wo  T)c  conscious  of  a  perception, 
that  is,  how  cjin  we  know  that  a  perception  exists,  — 
that  it  is  a  perception,  and  not  another  mental  state, 
—  and  that  it  is  the  percei)tion  of  a  rose,  and  of  noth- 
ing hilt  a  rose ;  iniless  this  consciousness  involve  a 
knowledge  (or  consciousness)  of  the  object  which  at 
once  determines  the  existence  of  an  act,  specifies 
its  kind,  and  distinguishes  its  individuality?  An- 
nihilalc  the  object,  you  annihilate  the  operation  ;  an- 
nihilate the  consciousness  of  the  object,  you  annihilate 
the  consciousness  of  the  operation.  In  the  greater 
number  indeed  of  our  cognitive  energies,  the  two 
terms  of  the  relation  of  knowledge  exist  only  as  iden- 
tical ;  the  object  admitting  only  of  a  logical  discrimi- 
nation from  the  subject.  I  imagine  a  Hippogryph. 
The  Hippogryph  is  at  once  the  o1)jcct  of  the  act  and 
the  act  itself.  Abstract  the  one,  the  other  has  no  ex- 
istence ;  deny  me  the  consciousness  of  the  Ilippo- 
gry[)h,  you  deny  me  the  consciousness  of  the  imagina- 
tion ;  1  am  conscious  of  zero  ;  I  am  not  conscious  at 
all.  (Discussions,  pp.  47-49.  Compare  Lect.  on 
3Iefa2^h.,  XII.) 


¥ 


§  3.     CONSCIOUSNESS :  its  evidence  and  avtjiority. 

I  now  proceed  to  consider  consciousness  as  the 
source  from  whence  wc  must  derive  every  fact  in  the 
Phil(>sophy  of  Mind.  And  in  prosecution  of  this 
purpose  I  shall,  in  the  Jirst  place,  endeavor  to  show 
you  that  it  really  is  the  principal,  if  not  the  only, 
source  from  which  all  knowledge  of  the  mental 
phenomena  must  be   obtained ;    and,  in   the  second 


sin    WILLIAM  IIAMILTOX  S   I'llILOSOrilY. 


47 


exists,  — 
nt.al  state, 
id  of  iioth- 
involve  a 
;t  which  at 
;,  spccilics 
ty?      An- 
atioii ;  aii- 
[  aunihihito 
ho  greater 
9,  the  two 
ily  as  ideii- 
il  discrimi- 
ippogryph. 
tiic  act  and 
has  110  ex- 
ile  Ilippo- 
10  imagiiia- 
onscious  at 
Led.   on 


vrnoRiTY. 

ss  as  the 
fact  ill  the 
on  of  this 
or  to  show 
the  only, 
le  mental 
the   second 


place,  T  t^hall  consider  the  character  of  its  evidence, 
and  what,  uiiih-r  dillereiit  relations,  are  the  degrees 
of  its  authority. 

.1)  As  consciousness  has  been  shown  to  be  tho 
condition  of  all  the  mental  phenonienju  it  is  mainly, 
if  not  solclv,  to  consi'iousness,  that  we  must  res«)rt 
for  Mil  acquaintanct"  with  these  phenomen.'i.  Accord- 
ing to  the  doctriue  of  i)hrenology,  indeed,  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  various  mental  jjowers  may  bo 
obtained  by  observation  of  the  various  parts  of  the 
brain,  which  that  science  maintains  that  it  has  dis- 
covered to  be  their  several  organs.  l>ut  though  tho 
mind,  in  its  lower  energies  and  aflections,  is  imme- 
diately dependent  on  the  conditions  of  the  nervous 
f'stein,    and,    in   general,    the    development    of    the 

hi  in  ditlercnt  species  of  animals  is  correspondent 
I.  ciieir  intelligence,  still  it  is  impossible  to  connect 
the  mhid  or  its  faculties  with  particular  parts  of  the 
nervous  system.  For  I  have  proved,  by  the  most 
extensive  induction,  that  the  alleged  physiological 
facts  on  which  phrenology  professes  to  be  based, 
such  as  its  assertion  of  the  correspondence  between 
the  development  of  the  cerebellum  and  the  function 
Avliich  it  ascribes  to  it,  arc  often  not  only  nnfounded, 
but  the  veiy  reverse  of  the  truth. ^ 

'  In  the  ahovo  parat^raph  I  liavo  endeavored  to  embody  the  teach- 
infr  of  Sir  William  Hamilton  on  the  subjeet  of  which  it  treats.  Ills 
editors  have  relegated  this  portion  of  his  lectures,  so  far  as  it  seemed 
worthy  of  preservation,  to  an  appendix  {fjcd.  on  Meinph.,  Appendix 
II.)?  where  it  may  be  consulted.  I  have  thoutcht  it  unnecessary  to  po 
into  detail,  both  because  the  position  of  phrenology  has  changed 
since  Hamilton's  time,  and  because  it  is  unnecessary  to  digress  into 
tho  question  concerning  the  function  of  the  various  organs  in  the 


48 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


:!( 


fi- 


!l;l 


m 


(B)  Wc  proceed  to  consider,  in  the  next  place, 
the  authority,  the  certainty,  of  this  instrument. 

Now,  it  is  at  once  evident,  tliat  philosophy,  as  it 
affirms  its  own  possibility,  must  affirm  the  veracity  of 
consciousness ;  for,  as  philosophy  is  only  a  scientific 
development  of  the  facts  which  consciousness  reveals, 
it  follows,  that  philosophy,  in  denying  or  doubting 
the  testimony  of  consciousness,  would  deny  or  doulit 
its  own  existence.  (Lect.  07i  Metcq^h.,  XY.)  IIow, 
then,  do  the  facts  of  consciousness  certify  us  of  their 
own  veracity?  To  this  the  only  possible  answer  is, 
that  as  elements  of  our  mental  constitution,  as 
the  essential  conditions  of  our  knowledge,  they 
must  by  us  be  accepted  as  true.  To  suppose  their 
ftilsohood,  is  to  suppose  that  we  arc  created  capable 
of  intelligence,  in  order  to  be  made  the  victims  of 
delusion ;  that  God  is  a  deceiver,  and  the  root  of  our 
nature  a  lie.  But  such  a  supposition,  if  gratuitous, 
is  manifestly  illegitimate.  For,  on  the  contrary,  the 
data  of  our  original  consciousness  must,  it  is  evident, 
in  the  first  instance.,  be  presumed  true.  It  is  only  if 
proved  false,  that  their  authority  can,  in  consequence 
of  that  ]iroof\  be,  in  the  second  instance,  disal- 
lowed. 

Here,  however,  at  the  outset,  it  is  proper  to  take  a 
distinction,  the  neglect  of  which  has  been  produc- 
tive of  considerable  error  and  confusion.  It  is  the 
distinction  between  the  data  or  deliverances  of  con- 
sciousness considered  simply  in  themselves^  as  aj/jire- 


■Ml 


cncoplmlon,  in  order  to  vindicnto,  not  only  I'^o  value,  Init  the  neces- 
sity, of  rcllection  in  the  study  of  mind.  —  J.  C.  ^ ' 


SIS   WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PHILOSOPnT. 


49 


t  place, 

it. 

ly,  as  it 

acity  of 

icientific 

reveals, 

loiibting 

or  doul)t 

)     How, 

of  their 
iiswor  is, 
ition ,  as 
re,  they 
ose  their 
1  capable 
ctims  of 
3t  of  our 
atuitoiis, 

ary,  the 

evident, 
only  if 

[Sequence 
disal- 

o  take  a 
pi'odnc- 

[t  is  the 
of  con- 

f.s  appre- 

the  neces- 


hended  facts  or  actual  man'festationSj  and  those 
deliverances  considered  as  testhnom'es  to  the  truth  of 
facts  beijond  their  own  p)henomenal  reality. 

1.  Viewed  nnder  the  former  limitation,  they  are 
above  all  scepticism.  For  as  donbt  is  itself  only  a 
manifestation  of  consciousness,  it  is  impossible  to 
d()ul)t  that,  when  consciousness  manifests,  it  does 
manifest,  without,  in  thus  doubting,  doubting  that 
we  actually  doubt;  that  is,  without  the  doubt  con- 
tradicting and  therefore  annihilating  itself.  Hence 
it  is  WvA  the  fjicts  of  consciousness,  as  mere  phenom- 
ena, are  l)y  the  unanimous  confession  of  all  sceptics 
and  idealists,  ancient  and  modern,  placed  high  above 
the  reach  of  (jnestion. 

H.  Viewed  under  the  latter  limitation,  the  deliver- 
ances of  consciousness  do  not  thus  peremptorily 
repel  even  the  possibility  of  doubt.  I  am  conscious, 
for  example,  in  an  act  of  sensible  perception,  (I.)  of 
myself,  the  subject  knowing;  and,  (2.)  of  something 
given  as  ditforent  from  myself,  the  object  known.  To 
take  the  second  term  of  this  relation :  that  I  am 
conscious  in  this  act  of  an  object  given,  as  a  iioii-er/o, 
—  that  is,  as  not  a  modification  of  my  mind,  —  of 
this,  as  a  phenomenon,  doubt  is  impossible.  For,  as 
has  ])een  seen,  we  cannot  doubt  the  actuality  of  a  fact 
of  consciousness  without  doubting,  that  is  subvertini?, 
our  doubt  itself.  To  this  extent,  therefore,  all  scep- 
ticism is  precluded.  But  though  it  cjunujt  ])ut  l)e 
admitted  that  the  object  of  which  wc  arc  conscious  in 
this  cognition  is  given,  not  as  a  mode  of  self,  but 
as  a  mode  of  something  dillerent  from  self,  it  is,  how- 
ever, possil)lc  lor  us  to  suppose,  without  our  supposi- 


:M 


50 


.^l.V  OUTLINE   OF 


tion,  at  least,  being  felo-de-se^  that,  though  given  as 
a  non-ego,  this  object  may,  in  reaUbj,  he  only  a  repre- 
sentation of  a  non-ego,  in  and  by  the-  ego.  Let  this, 
therefore,  be  maintained;  let  the /ad  of  the  testimony 
be  admitted,  but  the  truth  of  the  testimony,  to  aught 
beyond  its  own  ideal  existence,  be  doubted  or  denied. 
How  in  this  case  arc  we  to  proceed?  It  is  evident 
that  the  doubt  does  not  in  this,  as  in  the  former  case, 
refute  itself.  It  is  not  suicidal  by  self-contradiction. 
The  Idealist,  therefore,  in  denying  the  existence  of 
an  external  world,  as  more  than  a  subjective  phenom- 
enon of  the  internal,  does  not  advance  a  doctrine  ab 
initio  null,  as  a  scepticism  would  be  which  denied  the 
phenomena  of  the  internal  world  itself. 

It  is,  therefore,  manifest  that  we  may  throw  wholly 
out  of  account  the  phenomena  of  consciousness,  con- 
sidered merely  in  themselves  ;  seeing  tliat  scepticism 
in  regard  to  them,  under  this  limitation,  is  confess- 
edly impossiljlc  ;  and  that  it  is  only  requisite  to  vin- 
dicate the  truth  of  these  phenomena,  viewed  as 
attestations  of  more  than  their  own  existence,  seeing 
that  they  are  not,  in  this  respect,  placed  beyond  the 
possil)ilit3^  of  doubt. 

When,  for  example,  consciousness  assures  us  that, 
in  perce})tion,  we  are  immediately  cognizant  of  an  ex- 
ternal and  extended  non-ego  ;  or  tliat,  in  remembrance, 
through  the  imagination,  of  which  wo  are  immediately 
cognizant,  Ave  obtain  a  mediate  knowledge  of  a  real 
past;  how  shall  we  repel  the  doubt,  — in  the  former 
case,  that  what  is  given  as  the  extended  reality  itself  is 
not  merely  a  representation  of  matter  by  mind  ;  in  the 
latter,  that  what  is  given  as  a  mediate  knowledge  of 


.«.//?  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  philosopiiy. 


51 


given  as 
y  a  vepre- 
Let  this, 
testimony 
,  to  aught 
31"  denied, 
is  evident 
•mcr  case, 
:radiction. 
stence  of 
3  phenom- 
octrinc  ab 
ilenicd  the 

ow  wholly 
mess,  con- 
scepticism 
s  confess- 
itc  to  vin- 
dcwcd  as 
CO,  seeing 
eyond  the 

es  us  tliat, 
of  an  ex- 
nibnincc, 
uifHlialclv 
of  a  real 
he  former 
ty  itself  is 
lid  ;  in  the 
\v  ledge  of 


the  past,  is  not  a  mere  phantasm,  containing  an  illu- 
sive reference  to  an  unreal  past?  We  can  do  this 
only  in  one  way.  The  legitimacy  of  such  gratuitous 
doul)t  necessarily  supposes  that  the  deliverance  of 
consciousness  h  not  to  he  presumed  true.  If,  there- 
fore, it  can  be  shown,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  de- 
liverances of  consciousness  must  pliilosophically  be 
accepted,  until  their  certain  or  probable  falsehood  has 
been  positively  evinced ;  and  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  cannot  be  shown  that  any  attempt  to  discredit  the 
veracity  of  consciousness  has  ever  yet  succeeded ;  it 
follows  that,  as  philosophy  now  stands,  the  testimony 
of  consciousness  must  be  viewed  as  high  above  sus- 
picion, and  its  declarations  entitled  to  demand  prompt 
and  unconditional  assent. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  as  has  been  said,  it  cannot  but 
1)0  acknowledged  that  the  veracity  of  consciousness 
must,  at  least  in  the  first  instance,  be  conceded. 
"  N'^gand  incnmhit  probafio."  Nature  is  not  gratui- 
tously to  be  assumed  to  work,  not  only  in  vain,  but 
in  counteraction  of  herself;  our  faculty  of  knowledge 
is  not  without  a  ground  to  be  supposed  an  instrument 
of  illusion  ;  man,  unless  the  melancholy  fact  be  proved, 
is  not  to  be  held  organized  for  the  attainment,  and 
actuated  bv  the  love  of  truth,  onlv  to  become  the 
dupe  and  victim  of  a  perfidious  creator. 

II.  Ihit,  in  the  second  place,  though  the  veracity 
of  the  primary  convictions  of  consciousness  must,  in 
the  outset,  be  admitted,  it  still  remains  competent  to 
lead  a  proof  that  they  arc  undeserving  of  credit.  But 
how  is  this  to  be  done?  As  the  ultimate  grounds  of 
knowledge,  these  convictions   cnnnot    be   redargued 


52 


A}f  OUTLINE   OF 


from  any  higher  knowledge ;  and  as  original  beliefs, 
they  are  paramount  in  certainty  to  every  derivative 
assm'ance.  But  they  are  many ;  they  are,  in  author- 
itv,  co-ordinate ;  and  their  testimonv  is  clear  and 
precise.  It  is  therefore  competent  for  us  to  view  them 
in  correlation ;  to  compare  their  declarations,  and  to 
consider  whether  they  contradict,  and,  by  contradict- 
ing, invalidate  each  other.  This  mutual  contradiction 
is  possible  in  two  ways.  (1.)  It  may  be  that  the 
primary  data  themselves  arc  directly  or  immediately 
contradictory  of  each  other;  (2.)  It  may  be  that  they 
are  mediately  or  indirectly  contradictory,  inasmuch 
as  the  consequences  to  which  they  necessarily  lead,  and 
for  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  which  they  are  therefore 
responsible,  are  mutually  repugnant.  By  evincing 
either  of  these,  tlie  veracity  of  consciousness  will  be 
disproved ;  for  in  either  case  consciousness  is  shown 
to  be  inconsistent  with  itself,  and  consequently  incon- 
sistent with  the  unity  of  truth.  But  1)y  no  other 
process  of  demonstration  is  this  possible.  {BeicVa 
Works,  pp.  7^3-5.) 

Before  we  are  entitled  to  accuse  consciousness  of 
being  a  false  witness,  we  are  bound,  first  of  all,  to  see 
whether  there  be  any  rules  by  which,  in  employing 
the  testimony  of  consciousness,  we  must  l^e  governed  ; 
and  whether  philosophers  have  evolved  their  systems 
out  of  consciousness  in  obedience  to  these  rules.  For 
if  there  be  rules  under  wliich  alone  the  evidence  of 
consciousness  can  be  fairly  and  fully  given,  and, 
consequently,  under  which  alone  cousciousness  can 
serve  as  an  infallible  standard  of  certainty  and  truth, 
and  if  philosophers  have  despised  or  neglected  these. 


SIR   WILLIAM  nAMILTOy  s  rniLOSOPnv. 


53 


al  l)cliots, 
derivative 
in  autlior- 
clear  mid 
view  them 
US,  and  to 
:ontradict- 
iitradiction 
!  that  the 
nnediatcly 
3  that  they 

inasmuch 
/  lead,  and 
D  therefore 
f  evincing 
[}S3  will  be 
3  is  shown 
ntly  incon- 

no  other 
(EekVa 

ousncss  of 
all,  to  see 
mploying 
irovcrned ; 
ir  systems 
dcs.  For 
idonce  of 
vcn,  and, 
isncss  can 
[ind  truth, 
ted  these, 


then  nuist  we  remove  the  reproach  from  the  instru- 
ment, and  alHx  it  to  those  bUmdering  Avorkmen  who 
have  not  known  how  to  handle  and  apply  it.  Now, 
in  attempting  a  scientific  deduction  of  the  philosophy 
of  mind  from  the  facts  of  consciousness,  there  are,  in 
all,  if  I  generalize  correctly,  three  laws  which  aflbrd 
the  exclusive  conditions  of  psj'chological  legitimac3\ 

I.  27te  Law  of  Parcimony :  That  we  admit  nothing 
which  is  not  cither  an  original  datum  of  consciousness 
or  the  legitimate  consequence  of  such  a  datum. 

II.  TJie  Law  of  Infer/ rit f/ :  That  wc  embrace  all 
the  oriu'iual  data  of  consciousness  and  all  their  legiti- 
mate  conse(|Ucnces. 

III.  T/te  Law  of  Harmony :     That  we  exhil)it  each 
of  these  in  its  individual   integrity,  neither  distorted 
nor  mutilated,  and  in  its  relative  place,  whether  of 
pre-eminence  or  subordination.      (^Lect.  on  dicfajyh.f 
Xy.,ciiK\  EekVs  Works,  1^.74:7.) 

§  4.  coxsciousKESS :   classification  of  its  phe- 

NOMEXA. 

On  taking  a  survey  of  the  mental  modifications  or 

phenomena  of  which  wc  are  conscious,  these  are  seen 

to  divide  themselves  into  three  great  classes.      (1.)  In 

theiirst  i)lace,  there  are  (he  ])Iicnomena  of  Knowledge  ; 

(2.)   In  the  second  i)lace,  there  are  the  phenomena  of 

?  Feeling,  or  the  phenomena  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  and 

-  (3.)   In   the  third  place,  there  are  the  phenomena  of 

:  Conation,  or  of  will  and  desire.     Let   me  illustrate 

^,  this  by  an  example.     I  see  a  picture.     Xow,  first  of 

all,    I    am   conscious    of    perceiving   a   certain   com- 


54 


yJ.V   OVTUKE    OF 


i 


,  \ 


plcmeiit  (if  colors  :iii(l  figuvos  ;  I  recognize  what  the  ob- 
ject is.  This  is  the  phenonienoii  of  Corjnltion  or  Knowl- 
edge. ])Ut  this  is  not  tlu^  only  i)iienonienon  of  which 
I  may  he  here  conscions.  1  may  experience  certain 
affections  in  the  contemplation  of  this  object.  If  tlie 
picture  be  a  masterpiece,  tlie  gratification  will  be  un- 
alloyed ;  but  if  it  l)e  an  uneipial  production,  I  shall 
be  conscious,  perhaps  of  enjoyment,  Init  of  enjoyment 
alloyed  with  dissatisfaction.  This  is  the  i)henonienon 
of  Feeling^  or  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.  But  these  two 
phenomena  do  not  yet  exhaust  all  of  which  I  may  Ijo 
conscious  on  the  occasion.  I  may  desire  to  see  the 
picture  long,  —  to  see  it  often,  —  to  malvc  it  my  own, 
and,  perliaps,  I  may  will,  resolve,  or  determine  so 
to  (k).  Tiiis  is  the  complex  phenomenon  of  Will  and 
Desire.  The  characters  by  which  these  three  classes 
are  reciprocally  discriminated,  are  the  following  :  — 

I.  In  the  phenomena  of  cognition,  consciousness 
distinguishes  an  ol)iect  known  from  the  suliject  know- 
ing.  This  object  may  1)C  of  two  kinds  :  it  may  either 
be  the  quality  of  something  different  from  the  ego  ;  or 
it  may  l)e  a  modilication  of  the  ego  or  subject  itself. 
In  tlie  former  case,  the  object,  which  may  be  called 
for  the  sake  of  discrimination  the  ohject-ohjed ,  is  given 
as  something  different  from  the  percipient  sul)ject. 
In  the  latter  case,  the  object,  which  may  bo  called  the 
suhjed-ohject,  is  given  as  really  identical  with  the 
conscious  ego ;  but  still  consciousness  distinguishes 
it,  as  an  accident,  from  the  ego.  As  the  subject 
of  that  accident,  it  projects,  as  it  were,  this  subjective 
phenomenon  from  itself,  —  views  it  at  a  distance, 
—  in  a  word,  objectifies  it.     This  discrhninatiou  of 


sin    WILLIAM  flAMILTOX'S   PniLOSOr/IY. 


55 


^'liattlic  ob- 
i  or  Ivnoivl- 
n\  of  which 
?iu'0  cortahi 
ct.     If  the 
will  be  un- 
ion, I  shall 
'  cnjoynicnt 
henonionon 
i  these  two 
ill  I  may  l)c 
to  see  the 
it  my  own, 
iterminc  so 
jf  Will  and 
iree  classes 
jwing" :  — 
isciousncss 
ect  know'- 
niay  either 
le  ego ;  or 
ect  itself. 
)e  called 
cf,  is  given 
it  subject, 
called  the 
Avith  the 
tiiiguishes 
le   subject 
subjective 
distance, 
nation  of 


self  from  self — this  objectification  —  is  the  quality 
Avhicli  constitutes  the  essential  peculiarity  of  cog- 
nition. 

II.  In  the  phenomena  of  feeling,  on  the  contrary, 
consciousness  does  not  place  the  mental  modification 
or  state  beyond  itself;  it  does  not  contemplate  it 
apart,  — as  separate  from  itself,  — but  is,  as  it  were, 
fused  into  one.  The  peculiarity  of  feeling,  there- 
fore, is  that  there  is  nothing  but  what  is  subjectively 
siil)jective  ;  there  is  no  object  different  from  self, — 
no  objectification  of  any  mode  of  self.  Wo  arc, 
indeed,  able  to  constitute  our  states  of  pain  and 
pleasure  into  objects  of  reflection  ;  but  in  so  far  as 
they  are  objects  of  reflection,  they  arc  not  feelings, 
but  only  reflex  cognitions  of  feelings. 

III.  In  the  phenomena  of  conation,  there  is,  as  in 
those  of  cognition,  an  object,  and  this  object  is  also 
an  object  of  knowledge.  AVill  and  desire  arc  only 
possible  through  knowledge, — ^^  Ljnoti  nulla  cnjn'do." 
But  though  both  cognition  and  conation  bear  relation 
to  an  object,  they  are  discriminated  by  the  difference 
of  this  relation  itself.  In  cognition,  there  exists  no 
want ;  and  the  object,  whether  objective  or  subject- 
ive, is  not  sought  for,  nor  avoided  ;  whereas  in  cona- 
tion there  is  a  want,  and  a  tendency  supposed,  which 
results  in  an  endeavor,  either  to  obtain  the  object, 
Avhen  the  cognitive  faculties  represent  it  as  fitted  to 
afibrd  the  fruition  of  the  want ;  or  to  ward  off  the 
object,  if  these  faculties  represent  it  as  calculated  to 
frustrate  the  tendency  of  its  accomplishment.  (Lect. 
on  Metajih.,  XLII.) 


VA 


56 


AY  OUTLINE    OF 


To  the  abovo  cljissifieatlou  of  the  mental  phenom- 
ena objections  have  been  taken. 

I.  It  has  been  ol)jectecl,  that  the  three  classes  are 
co-ordhiate.  It  is  evitlent  that  every  mental  phenom- 
enon is  either  an  act  of  knowledge,  or  only  possible 
throngh  an  act  of  knowledge,  for  consciousness  is  a 
knowledge,  and,  on  this  principle,  many  philoso- 
phers, as  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  Spinoza,  Wolf,  Piat- 
ner,  and  others,  have  been  led  to  regard  the 
fiicult}^  of  cognition  as  the  fundamental  power  of 
mind,  from  which  all  others  are  derivative.  To  this 
the  answer  is  easy.  These  phih)Sop]icrs  did  not 
observe  that,  although  pleasure  and  pain,  although 
desire  and  volition,  are  only  as  they  are  known  to  be  ; 
yet,  in  these  moditications,  a  qualit}^  a  phenomenon 
of  mind,  absolutely  new,  hns  been  superadded,  which 
was  never  involvetl  in,  and  could,  therefore,  never 
have  been  evolved  out  of,  the  mere  faculty  of  knowl- 
edge. The  faculty  of  knowledge  is  certainly  the  first 
in  order,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  conditio  sine  qua  non 
of  the  others ;  and  we  are  able  to  conceive  a  being 
possessed  of  the  power  of  recognizing  existence,  and 
yet  Avholly  void  of  all  feeling  of  pain  and  pleasure, 
and  of  all  powers  of  desire  and  volition.  On  the 
other  hand,  we  are  wholly  unable  to  conceive  a  being 
possessed  of  feeling  and  desire,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  without  a  knowledge  of  any  object  upon  M'hich 
his  affections  may  be  employed,  and  without  a  con- 
sciousness of  these  affections  themselves. 

We  can  farther  conceive  a  being  possessed  of 
knowledge  and  feeling  alone,  — a  being  endowed  with 
a  power  of  recognizing  objects,  of  enjoying  the  exer- 


sin  lyiLUAAr  nAmLTOx\s  rniLosornr. 


57 


ciso,  and  of  grieving  at  the  restraint  of  his  activity, 
—  and  yet  devoid  of  vohnitary  agency  —  of  that 
conation  whieli  i.s  possessed  by  man.  To  such  a 
being  Avonld  ))elong  feelings  of  pain  and  pleasure, 
but  neither  desire  nor  will,  properly  so  called.  On 
the  other  hand,  however,  we  cannot  possibly  conceive 
the  existence  of  a  voluntary  activity  independently 
of  all  feeling;  for  V(duntary  conation  is  a  faculty 
which  can  only  be  detennined  to  en(U'gy  through  a 
pain  or  pleasure,  —  through  an  estimate  of  the  rela- 
tive worth  of  objects. 

In  distinjifuishinu'  the  coirnitions,  feelings,  and  cona- 
tions,  it  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  supposed  that  these 
phenomena  are  possible  independently  of  each  other. 
In  our  philosopliical  systems,  they  may  stand  sepa- 
rated from  each  other  in  books  and  chapters ;  in 
nature,  they  arc  ever  interwoven.  In  every,  the 
simplest,  modification  of  mind,  knowledge,  feeling, 
and  desire  or  Avill,  go  to  constitute  the  mental  state ; 
and  it  is  only  by  a  scientific  abstraction  that  we  arc 
able  to  analvze  the  state  into  elements,  which  are 
never  really  existent  but  in  mutual  combination. 
These  elements  are  found,  indeed,  in  very  various  pro- 
portions in  dillercnt  states ;  sometimes  one  prepon- 
derates, sometimes  another;  but  there  is  no  state  in 
which  they  are  not  all  coexistent.    (Led.  on  Mcfapli.y 

XI.) 

II.  A  second  objection  is  urged  by  Krug,  a  distin- 
guished champion  of  the  Kantian  system,  who  go(^3 
so  far  as  to  maintain,  not  onlv  that  what  have  ob- 
tained  the  name  ot'feelhi'js  constitute  no  distinct  class 
of  mental  functions,  but  that  the  very  supposition  is 


58 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  HAMILTON  S  rillLOSOrjIY. 


absurd,  and  even  impossible.  The  power  of  cogni- 
tion and  tlie  power  of  conation,  he  holds,  are  in  pro- 
priety to  be  regarded  as  two  different  fundamental 
powers,  only  because  the  operation  of  our  mind  ex- 
hibits a  twofold  direction  of  its  whole  activity,  —  one 
inwards,  another  outwards ;  in  consequence  of  which 
we  are  constrained  to  distinguish,  on  the  one  hand, 
an  immanent  ideal  or  theoretical,  and,  on  the  other, 
a  transeunt  real  or  practical,  activity.  Hence  it  is 
argued  that,  if  we  interpolate  a  third  species  of  ac- 
tivity, its  direction  must  bo  either  immanent  or 
transeunt,  or  both,  or  neither  of  these ;  but  on  the 
first  three  suppositions  there  are  still  only  two  kinds 
of  mental  activity,  and  on  the  fourth  there  is  merely 
au  additional  activity,  in  no  direction,  which  is  no 
activity  at  all.  In  answer  to  this  it  may  bo  said,  (1.) 
That,  in  place  of  two  forms  of  mental  activity,  wo  may 
competently  suppose  three,  ineunt^  immanent^  and 
transeunt.  (2.)  That  directions  are  properly  ascribed 
only  to  the  movements  of  external  things.  (Abridged 
from  Lecture  XLI.  of  the  Lect.  on  Metajph.) 


% 


'i 
'!^' 


1 


The  order  of  these  phenomena  is  determined  by 
their  relative  consecution.  Feeling  and  appetency 
suppose  knowledge.  The  cognitive  faculties,  there- 
fore, stand  first.  But  as  will,  and  desire,  and  aver- 
sion suppose  a  knowledge  of  the  pleasurable  and 
painful,  the  feelings  will  stand  second  as  intermediate 
between  the  other  two.  {Led.  on  Melaph.^  XI.) 
The  phenomena  of  knowledge  come,  therefore,  first 
under  consideration,  and  philosophy  is  principally 
and  primarily  the  Science  of  Knowledge.  (HeicVs 
Works,  p.  808,  note.) 


jy. 


of  cogiii- 
ro  in  pro- 
iclaraental 
rniud  cx- 
ty,  —  one 
of  which 
•lie  hand, 
lie  other, 
!iiCG  it  is 
cs  of  ac- 
auciit   or 
t  on  the 
wo  kinds 
s  merely 
eh  is  no 
aid,  (1.) 
,  wo  may 
ent,   and 
ascribed 
Abridged 


FIRST    PART   OF    PHENOMENAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 


PBENOMENOLOaT  OP    THE  COOmitONa. 


FIRST  PART  OF  PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF   THE   COGNITIONS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    THE   COGNITIVE   FACULTIES. 


I  NOW  proceed  to  the  particular  invcstigiition  of  tlie 
first  class  of  the  mental  pbeiiomeiia,  and  shall  com- 
meuce  by  delineating  to  you  the  distribution  of  the 
cognitive  faculties  which  I  shall  adopt,  —  a  distribution 
ditlbrent  from  any  other  with  which  I  am  acquainted. 
But  I  would  Hrst  premise  an  observation  in  regard  to 
psychological  powers. 

As  to  mental  powers,  you  are  not  to  suppose  them 
entities  really  distinguisiiable  from  the  thinking  prin- 
ciple, or  really  different  from  each  other.  ^Mental 
powers  are  not  like  bodily  organs.  It  is  tlu^  same 
simple  substance  which  exerts  every  energy  of  every 
facult  however  various,  and  which  is  aifccted  in 
every  mode  of  every  capacity,  however  opposite. 

It  is  a  ct,  too  notorious  to  be  denied,  that  the  mind 
i?  f-apablc  of  different  modifications  ;  that  is,  can  exert 
ditlerent  actions,  and  can  be  affected  by  different  pas- 
sions.    But  these  .'""tions  and  passions  arc  not  all  dis- 

61 


w 


62 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


il 


similar  ;  every  action  and  passion  is  not  tliffcrcnt  from 
every  other.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  like,  and  they 
are  unlike.  Those,  therefore,  that  are  like,  avc  group 
or  assort  together  in  thought,  and  bestow  on  them  a 
common  name ;  nor  are  these  groups  or  assortments 
manifold,  —  they  arc,  in  fact,  few  and  simple.  Again, 
every  action  is  an  effect ;  every  action  and  passion  a 
modilication.  But  every  effect  supposes  a  cause ; 
every  modification  supposes  a  subject.  When  we  say 
that  the  mind  exerts  an  energy,  we  virtually  say  that 
the  mind  is  the  cause  of  the  energy ;  when  we  say 
that  the  mind  acts  or  suffers,  we  say,  in  other  words, 
that  the  mind  is  the  subject  of  a  modification.  But 
the  modifications,  that  is,  the  actions  and  passions,  of 
the  mind,  as  *vo  stated,  all  fall  into  a  few  resembling 
groups,  which  we  designate  by  a  peculiar  name  ;  and 
as  the  mind  is  the  common  cause  and  subject  of  all 
these,  we  arc  surely  entitled  to  say,  in  general,  that  the 
mind  has  the  tjiculty  of  exerting  such  and  such  a  class 
of  energies,  or  has  the  capacity  of  being  modified 
by  such  and  such  an  order  of  affections.  On  this  doc- 
trine, a  faciilff/  is  nothing  more  than  a  general  term 
for  the  causality  the  mind  has  of  originating  a  certain 
class  of  energies  ;  a  capacity^  only  a  general  term  for 
the  susceptibilit}'  the  mind  has  of  being  affectet'.  by  a 
particular  class  of  emotions. 

From  what  F  b.avc  now  .^aid,  you  will  be  bettor  pre- 
pared for  Avhat  I  am  abouL  to  stato  in  regard  lo  tho 
classifioati:)n  of  the  first  great  oru  n- of  mental  phe- 
nomopii,  and  the  distribution  <}f  the  faculties  of  kriowl- 
edge  founiled  thereon.  I  formerly  told  you  that  the 
mentid  phenomena  arc  never  presented  to  us  scpa- 


II 

s 

J) 

A 

w 

*1 

(> 

I' 

^^ 

.  '^ 

:^ 


SIR  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  pniLosopnr. 


68 


ratoly  ;  they  are  always  in  conjunction,  and  it  is  only 
by  an  iclc'il  analysis  and  abstraction  that,  for  the  pur- 
poses of  science,  they  can  be  discriminated  and  con- 
sidered apart.  The  problem,  proposed  in  such  an 
analysis,  is  to  find  the  primary  threads  which,  in  their 
composition,  form  the  complex  tissue  of  thought.  lu 
what  ought  to  be  accomplished  by  such  an  analysis, 
all  philosophers  are  agreed,  however  dilforent  may 
have  been  the  result  of  their  attempts.  I  slnill  not 
state  and  criticise  the  various  classificationc  pro- 
pounded of  the  cognitive  faculties.  I  shall  only  de- 
lineate the  distribution  of  the  faculties  of  knowledge 
which  I  have  adopted,  and  endeavor  to  aftbrd  you 
some  general  insight  into  its  principles. 

I  again  repeat  that  consciousness  constitutes,  or  is 
coextensive  with,  all  our  faculties  of  knowledge,  — 
these  faculties  being  only  special  modifications  under 
which  consciousness  is  manifested.  It  being,  therc- 
fure,  understood  that  consciousness  is  not  a  special 
laculty  of  knowledge,  but  the  general  faculty  out  of 
whieii  the  specirii  faculties  of  knowledge  arc  evolved, 
I  proceed  to  this  cvrlution. 

I.  In  the  fir^t  place,  as  we  arc  endowed  with  a  fac- 
ulty of  Cognition,  or  Consciousness  in  genoi-al,  and 
snice  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  we  have  always 
possessed  the  knowledge  which  we  now  possess,  it 
will  be  admitted  that  wo  must  have  a  faculty  of  ac- 
quiring knowledge.  But  this  acquisition  of  knowl- 
edge can  illy  be  accomplished  by  the  inunediato 
present!  ion  of  a  new  object  to  consciousness  ;  in  other 
words,  l;y  the  reception  of  a  new  objc^ct  within  the 
sphere  of  our  cognition.  •  "We  have  thus  a  faculty 


u 


A\    OUTLISE    OF 


ht 


which  may  be  ciillod  the  AcqiiisiHve,  or  the  Prescnta- 
tive,  ov  i\\Q  Ihccptive. 

Now,  new  or  adventitious  knowledge  may  be  cither 
of  things  external  or  of  things  internal.  If  the  ol)- 
jcct  of  knowledge  be  external,  the  faculty  receptive 
or  presentative  of  the  qualities  of  such  object  will  be 
a  consciousness  of  the  non-ego.  This  has  obtained 
the  name  of  External  Perception,  or  o^  Perception  sim- 
ply. If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  object  be  internal, 
the  fsTculty  receptive  or  presentative  of  the  qualitiea 
of  such  subject-object,  will  be  a  consciousness  of  the 
ego.  This  faculty  obtains  the  name  of  Intermd  or 
PcJIex  Perception,  or  of  SetJ-conffciousness.  By  the 
foreign  psychologists  this  faculty  is  termed  also  the 
Internal  Sense. 

li.  In  the  second  place,  inasmuch  as  we  arc  capa- 
ble of  knowledge,  we  must  be  endowed  not  only  witli 
a  faculty  of  acciiiiring,  but  with  a  faculty  of  retaining 
or  conserving  it  when  acquired.  "NVe  have  thus,  as  a 
second  necessary  ihculty,  one  that  may  be  called  the 
Conservative  or  Retentive.  This  is  Memory,  strictly 
so  denominated. 

III.  But,  in  the  third  place,  if  we  are  capable  of 
knowledge,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  possess  a  faculty 
of  acquiring,  and  a  faculty  of  retaining  it  in  the  mind, 
but  out  of  consciousness  ;  we  nnisl  furtlier  be  endowed 
with  a  faculty  of  recalling  it  out  of  unconsciousness 
into  consciousness  ;  in  short,  a  reproductive  power. 
Tliis  licprodnctire  faculty  is  governed  by  the  laws 
which  regulate  the  succession  of  our  thoughts,  —  the 
laws,  as  they  are  called,  of  Mental  Association.  If 
these  Ittwa  tiro  allowed  to  operate  without  the  inter- 


SIR    WILLIAM  HAMILTON  S   PniLOSOPJIY. 


G") 


vciitioii  of  the  "vvill,  this  faculty  maybe  called  Suffffes- 
tioii,  or  Spontaneous  SiKjge.dlon ;  —  whereas,  if  applied 
uiulcr  the  influence  of  the  will,  it  will  properly  obtain 
the  name  oi  Reminiscence,  or  IhcoUection.  By  repro- 
duction, it  .should  be  observed,  that  I  strictly  mean 
th(!  process  of  recovering  the  absent  thought  from  un- 
consciousness, and  not  its  representation  in  conscious- 
uess. 

IV.  In  the  fourth  place,  as  capable  of  knowledge, 
we  nuist  not  only  be  endowed  with  a  presentative,  a 
conservative,  and  a  reproductive  faculty  ;  there  is  rc- 
<]iiired  for  their  consummation  a  faculty  of  represent- 
ing in  consciousness,  and  of  keeping  before  the  mind 
the  knowledge  presented,  retained,  and  reproduced. 
We  have  thus  a  RepreKcntatice  faculty ;  and  this  ob- 
tains the  name  of  Imagination  or  Phantasy. 

V.  In  the  tifth  place,  all  the  faculties  we  have  con- 
sidered are  only  subsidiary.  They  acquire,  presei've, 
call  out,  and  hold  up,  the  materials,  for  the  use  of  a 
higher  faculty  which  operates  upon  these  materinls, 
and  which  we  may  call  the  TJJaborative  or  Discursive 
faculty.  This  faculty  has  only  one  operation, —  h  only 
compares.  It  may  stjirtle  you  to  hear  that  the  high- 
est function  of  mind  is  nothing  higher  than  co  ii)ari- 
son ;  Init,  in  the  end,  I  am  contident  of  convincing 
you  of  the  paradox. 

VI.  But,  in  the  sixth  and  last  place,  the  mind  is  not 
altogether  indebted  to  experience  for  the  whole  appa- 
ratus of  its  knowledge.  AVhat  we  know  by  experi- 
ence, without  experience  we  should  !u>t  have  known  ; 
and  as  all  our  experience  is  contingent,  all  the  knowl- 
edge derived  from  experi<'nce  is  contingent  also.    But 


66 


AX   OCTLINE    OF  HAMILTON'S    m/LOSOPnY. 


there  are  coirnitions  ill  the  mind  which  are  not  con- 

v., 

tingent.  —  Avliich  arc  necessary,  —  which  we  cannot 
bnt  think.  —  whi<'h  tlioiight  supposes  as  its  fundanien- 
tal  condition.  These  cognitions,  therefore,  are  not 
mere  generalizations  froi>'  experience.  But  if  not  de- 
rived from  expei-ience,  they  nuist  ])e  native  to  tlie 
mind.  These  native  cognitions  are  tlic  hiws  h}-  wliidi 
the  mind  is  governed  in  its  operations,  and  wliicli  af- 
ford the  conditions  of  its  capacity  of  knowledge. 
These  necessary  hnvs,  or  primary  conditions  of  intel- 
ligence, are  phenomena  of  a  similar  character;  and 
we  must,  therefore,  generalize  or  collect  them  into  a 
class  :  and  on  the  power  possessed  l)y  the  mind  of 
manifesting  these  phenomena  we  may  bestow  the 
name  of  the  Regidativt  faculty.  {Lect.  on  J/e/aj;/!., 
XX.) 

The  following  is  a  tabular  view  of  the  distribution 
of  the  .Special  Faculties  of  Knowledge. 


9 

c 


Cl.  Estcrnul  —  Perception. 
I.  I*rc?entiitivo  < 

C  2.  Internal  —  Self-Consciousness. 
II.  Coasorvativo —  Mouicpry. 

C\,  Without  will  —  Suggestion. 
III.  Reproductive^ 

(2.  A\  ith  will  —  Rominisconco. 

IV.  Representative  —  luiagiuation  or  Plianta.«y. 

V.   Ela'-urative  —  Comparison,  or   the   Faculty   of  Rclatioug. 

VI.  Hiijulative  —  Reason  or  Common  Sense. 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  COGNITIONS. 


CIIAPTEll  I. 

THE  PRESENT ATI VE  FACULTY. 

This  iiiculty  is  subdiviilod  into  External  Perception 
and  Internal  Perception,  or  Self-consciousness.  I 
commence  with  the  former  of  these. 

§    1.       KXTRUNAL   rEItCEPTIOK. 

External  or  Sensitive  Perception,  or  Perception  sim- 
ply,^ is  that  act  of  consciousness  whereby  we  ai)[)re- 
hcnd  in  our  body,  (1.)  certain  sj)enal  aj/ecfions, 
whereof,  as  an  animated  organism,  it  is  contingently 
susceptible  ;  an<l  (2.)  those  (/oteral  relafinns  nf  exten- 
sion, under  which,  as  a  material  organism,  it  necessa- 
rily exists.  Of  these  perceptions  the  former  is  nen- 
sutiun  proper ;  the  latter, /jc/vry^/Zon  proper.  {lieitVs 
Warks,  pp.  W70-7.)  This  distinction  it  is  necessafy 
to  explain,  as  well  as  a  correlative  distinction  in  the? 
(pialilies  of  matter;    and  we  shall  thus  be  the  better 


'For  a  sk(tc1i  of  the  various  meaning*  of  tlio  word  Percept  ion,  see 
JkiiVs  Works,  \>.  f^Tfi,  note.  —  J.  ('.  M. 

m 


C8 


^.V   OUTLINE    OF 


prepared  for  uudertituncliiig  the  true  theory  of  percep- 
tion. 

(A)  Sensation  and  PERCErxiON.  Before  pro- 
ceeding to  state  the  great  hiw  which  reguhites  the 
mutual  rehition  of  these  phenomena,  it  is  proper  to 
say  a  few  words  ilhistrative  of  the  nature  of  the  phe- 
nomena tlicmselves.  Perception  is  a  special  kind  of 
knowledge;  sensation  a  s^jccial  kind  of  feeling ;  and 
KnoirJedje  and  Fcelinr/,  it  will  be  remembered,  are  two 
out  of  the  tlircc  great  classes,  into  which  we  divided 
the  })henomena  of  mind.  Now,  as  Perception  is  only  a 
S[)e('ial  mode  of  Kuowlcdgo,  and  Sensation  only  a  spe- 
cial mode  of  Feeling,  so  the  contrast  of  Perception  and 
Sensation  is  only  the  special  manifestation  of  a  con- 
trast, which  universally  divides  the  generic  phenom- 
ena themselves.  It  ought,  therefore,  in  the  tirst 
place,  to  iiave  been  noticed,  that  the  generic  phenom- 
ena of  Knowledge  and  Feeling  arc  always  found 
coexistent,  and  yet  always  distinct ;  and  the  oppo- 
sition of  Perception  and  Sensation  should  have  been 
stated  as  an  obtrusive,  but  still  only  a  particular,  ex- 
am[)le  of  the  general  law.  But  not  only  is  the  dis- 
tinction of  Perception  and  Sensation  not  generalized 
])y  our  psychologists ;  it  is  not  concisely  and  precisely 
stated.  A  Cognition  is  ohjecdve,  that  is,  our  con- 
sciousness is  then  relative  to  something  dilFerent  from 
the  present  state  of  the  mind  itself;  a  Feeling,  on  the 
contrary,  is  Huhjedlve,  that  is,  our  consciousness  is 
exclusively  limited  to  the  pleasure  or  pain  experi- 
enced by  the  thinking  subject.  Cognition  and  feeling 
are  always  coexistent.  The  purest  act  of  knowledge 
is  always  colored  by  some  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain; 


STR    WILLIAM  HAMILTOX'S   PHILOSOPnY. 


69 


Ol 


less   IS 
'xperi- 

vletl2:c 
pjiiii ; 


for  no  energy  is  absolutely  indifferent,  and  the  gross- 
est feeling  exists  only  as  it  is  known  in  consciousness. 
This  hcing  the  case  of  cognition  and  feeling  in  general, 
tlie  same  is  true  of  perception  and  sensation  in  par- 
ticular. Perception  proper  is  the  consciousness, 
through  tlie  senses,  of  the  qualities  of  an  object 
known  as  different  from  self;  Sensation  proper  is  the 
consciousness  of  the  subjective  affection  of  pleasure 
or  pain,  which  acconii)anies  that  act  of  knowledge. 
Percei)tion  is  thus  the  objective  element  in  the  com- 
plex state,  —  tlie  element  of  Cognition  ;  Sensation  is 
the  subjective  clement,  —  the  element  of  Feeling. 

The  most  remarkable  defect,  however,  in  the  pres- 
ent doctrine  upon  this  point,  is  the  ignorance  of  our 
l)S}chologists  in  regard  to  the  law  by  which  the  phe- 
nomena of  cognition  and  feeling,  —  of  perception  and 
sensation,  —  are  governed,  in  their  reciprocal  relation. 
This  law  is  simple  and  universal ;  and,  once  enounced, 
its  proof  is  found  in  every  mental  manifestation.  It 
is  this  :  Knoicledge  and  Feeling^  —  PercejMon  and 
/Sensation, — (hough  ahvags  coexistent,  are  always  in 
the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.  That  these  two  ele- 
ments arc  always  found  in  coexistence,  as  it  is  an  old 
and  a  notorious  truth,  it  is  not  requisite  for  me  to 
prove.  But  that  these  elements  are  always  found  to 
coexist  in  an  inverse  proportion,  —  in  support  of  this 
universal  fact,  it  will  be  requisite  to  adduce  proof 
and  illustration. 

In  doing  this  I  shall,  however,  confine  myself  to 
the  relation  of  Perception  and  Sensation. 

I.  The  first  proof  I  shall  take  from  a  comparison 
of  the  several  senses;  and  it  will  be  found  that,  pre- 


i 


V'_jwii 


70 


AN  OVTLIXE   OF 


chehf  as  a  sense  has  more  of  the  one  element,  it  has 
less  of  the  other.  Laying  Touch  asitlo  for  the  moment, 
as  this  rcfjuiros  ii  special  explanation,  tlu^  other  ibui* 
senses  divitle  themselves  into  two  classes,  according 
as  l*erccption  or  Sensation  predominates.  The  two 
in  Avhich  the  former  clement  prevails,  are  Sight  and 
Hearing;  tho  two  in  which  the  latter,  arc  Taste  and 
Smell. 

1.  Taking  the  first  two,  it  will  be  at  once  admitted 
that 

(a)  Sijht  at  the  same  instant  presents  to  us  a  greater 
number  and  a  greater  variety  of  ol)jects  and  <]nalities 
than  any  other  of  the  senses.  In  this  sense,  therefore, 
Perception  is  at  its  maximum.  But  Sensation  is  here  at 
its  minimum ;  for  in  the  eye  we  experience  less  oiganic 
pleasure  or  pain  from  the  impressions  of  its  appro- 
priate olyccts  (colors);  than  we  do  in  any  other 
sense. 

(h)  Next  to  Sight,  Hearing  affords  us,  in  the 
shortest  interval,  the  greatest  variety  and  multitude 
of  cognitions ;  and  as  sight  divides  space  almost  to 
intinity,  through  color,  so  hearing  docs  the  same  to 
time,  through  sound.  Hearing  is,  however,  nuich 
less  extensive  in  its  sphere  of  Knowledge  or  Percep- 
tion than  sight ;  but  in  the  same  proportion  is  its 
capacity  of  Feeling  or  Sensation  more  intensive. 
We  have  greater  pleasure  and  greater  pain  from 
single  sounds  than  from  single  colors  ;  and,  in  like  man- 
ner, concords  and  discords,  in  the  one  sense,  affect  U3 
more  agreeably  or  disagreeably,  than  any  modifications 
of  light  in  the  other. 

2.  In    2\iste  and   Smell  the  degree  of  Sensation, 


silt    WILLIAM  nAMlLTOS  S    PniLOSOmY. 


tliat  is,  of  pleasure  or  pain,  is  groat  in  proportion  as 
tlu'  perception,  tliat  is,  tlic  information  tlioy  afford,  is 

SMlilll. 

3.  In  regard  to  Touch,  without  entering  on  dis- 
puted questions,  it  is  sufficient  to  know,  tliat  in  tliosc 
parts  of  the  body  wliere  sensation  predominates,  per- 
ception is  feeble  ;  and  in  tliose  where  perception  is 
lively,  sensation  is  oI)luse.  In  the  linger-points 
tactile  perception  is  at  its  height  ;  l)ut  there  is  hardly 
any  other  part  of  tlie  body  in  whicii  sensation  is  not 
more  acute.  Toucli,  tlierefore,  if  viewed  as  a  single 
sense,  belongs  to  both  classes, — the  objective  and 
the  subjective.  But  it  is  more  correct  to  regard  it  as 
a  jiluralit}'  of  senses,  in  which  case  toucli,  properly 
so  called,  having  a  principal  organ  in  the  fiiigcn'- 
points,  will  l»c'long  to  the  class  in  which  percepti(m 
proper  [predominates. 

II.  The  analogy,  which  we  have  thus  seen  to  h(dd 
good  in  the  several  senses  in  relation  to  each  other, 
prevails  likewise  among  the  several  impressions  of  (he 
same  sense.  Impressions  in  the  same  sense  ditfer 
both  (1.)  in  degree  and  (2.)  in  qualit\'  or  kind. 

1.  Taking  their  difference  in  (le;/ree,  and  supposing 
that  the  degree  of  the  impression  determines  the 
degree  of  the  sensation,  it  cannot  certainly  be  said, 
that  the  mininnmi  of  Sensati(Mi  infers  the  maximum 
of  Perception  ;  for  Perception  always  su[)poses  ji  eer- 
taiu  (juantum  of  Sensation  :  but  this  is  undeniable, 
that,  above  a  certain  limit.  Perception  declines,  in 
proportion  as  Sensation  rises.  Thus,  in  the  sense  of 
flight,  if  the  impression  be  strong  we  are  dazzled, 
blindocK  and  consciousness  is  limited  to  the  pain  or 


r^T 


72 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


pleasure  of  tlie  Sensation,  in  tho  intensity  of  ■vvhicli 
Perception  has  been  lost. 

2.  Take  now  the  difference,  in  I'incl,  of  impres- 
sions in  tho  same  sense.  Of  the  senses,  take  apiin 
that  of  Sight.  Sight,  as  will  hereafter  be  shown,  is 
cognizant  of  color,  and  of  figure,  lint  though  figure  is 
known  only  through  color,  a  very  imperfect  cognizance 
of  color  is  necessary,  as  is  shown  in  the  case  (and  it 
is  not  a  rare  one)  of  those  individuals  who  have  not 
the  faculty  of  discriminating  colors.  These  p(>rsons, 
who  probably  perceive  only  a  certain  diHorencc  of 
light  and  shade,  have  as  dear  and  distinct  a  cog- 
nizance of  figure,  as  others  who  enjoy  the  sense  of 
sight  in  absolute  perfection.  This  l)cing  understood, 
you  will  observe,  tluit,  in  the  vision  of  color,  there  is 
more  of  Sensation ;  in  that  of  figure,  more  of  Per- 
ception. Color  all'ords  our  faculties  of  knowledge 
a  far  smaller  number  of  dillVrences  and  relations  than 
figure  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  yields  our  ca[)acity  of 
feelinir  a  far  more  sensual  enjoyment.  Hut  if  the 
pl(>asure  we  derive  from  color  be  more  gross  and 
vivid,  that  from  figure  is  more  refined  and  permanent. 
It  is  a  law  of  our  nature,  that  the  more  intense  a 
pleasure,  the  shorter  is  its  duration.  The  pleasures 
of  sense  are  grosser  and  more  intense  than  those  of 
intellect ;  but,  while  the  former  alternate  speedily 
with  disgust,  with  the  latter  we  arc  never  satiated. 
The  same  analogy  holds  among  the  senses  themselves. 
Those  in  which  Sensation  predominates,  in  which 
pleasure  is  most  intense,  soon  pall  upon  us ;  whereas 
those  in  which  Perception  predominates,  and  which 
hold  more  immediately  of  intelligence,  afford  us  a  less 


srn  MTiLLTAM  nAurLTo\*s  r/riLOsopnr. 


73 


exclusive  hut  amoro  oncliiring  gratification.  How  soon 
arc  wc  cloyed  with  the  pleasures  of  the  palate,  com- 
pared with  those  of  the  eye;  and,  among  the  objects 
of  the  former,  the  meats  that  please  the  most  are 
soonest  ohjccts  of  disgust.  This  is  too  notorious  in 
regard  to  taste  to  stand  in  need  of  proof.  But  it  is 
no  less  cerliiin  in  the  case  of  vision.  In  painting, 
there  is  a  pleasure  derived  from  a  vivid  and  harmo- 
nious coloring,  and  a  pleasure  from  the  drawing  and 
grouping  of  the  figures.  The  two  pleasures  are  dis- 
tinct, and  even,  to  a  certain  extent,  incompatible. 
For  if  wo  attempt  to  combine  them,  the  grosser  and 
more  obtrusive  gratification,  which  we  find  in  the  col- 
oring, distracts  us  from  the  more  refined  and  intellect- 
ual enjoyment  we  derive  from  the  relation  of  figure ; 
Avhile,  at  the  same  time,  the  disgust  we  soon  expe- 
rience from  the  one  tends  to  render  us  insensible  to  the 
other.     (Lecf.  on  3Ieta2)h.,'KXiy.^) 

(B)    Distinction  in  the  Qualities  of  Matter. 

The  qualities  of  body  I  divide  into  three  classes. 
Adopting  and  adapting,  as  far  as  possible,  the  previ- 
ous nomenclature,^  the  first  of  these  I  would  denomi- 
nate the  class  o^  Primary,  or  Objective,  Qualities  ;  the 
second,  the  class  of  Secimdo-Primari/^  or  Suhjedivn- 
Ohjecfive,  Qualities  ;  the  third,  the  class  of  Secondan/, 
or  Snhjective,  Qualities. 

The  general  point  of  view  from  which  the  Qualities 
of  Matter  are  here  considered  is  not  the  Phyf^ical,  but 


If 


PI 


'  Sec  also  ReifVs  WorTcs,  Note  D*.  This  note  rontains  a  history  of 
the  recognition  of  tlie  distinction  between  sensation  and  perception. 

2  For  a  history  of  this  distinction,  consult  lieid's  Works,  note  D. 
—  J.  C.  M. 


I 


1 

il 


n 


^.V  OVTUSE  OF 


tho  Pst/choJor/t'c((J.  But,  under  tliis,  tlio  ^nri-omid  of 
principle  oii  whicli  those  (pialiliosiiro  diviiled  iind  dos- 
ifruiited  Is,  apfjiin,  twofold.  There  are,  in  faet,  uilhiii 
the  psyehoh)gieal,  two  special  points  of  view  ;  (1.) 
that  of  Sense,  and  (2.)  tiiat  of  i^nderManding. 

1.  The  point  of  view  ohn)noh)gically  prior,  or  first 
to  us,  is  that  of  Sense.  The  principle  of  division  is 
here  the  dilForent  circumstances  under  which  the  qual- 
ities are  originally  and  immediately  appvcJunuh'd.  0\\ 
this  ground,  as  apprehensions  or  iuiinediate  <c>nnitions 
thronirh  Si'use,  the  Primari/  are  distinguished  as  o6- 
jeclive,  not  subjective,  as  poveptu proper,  not  sensa- 
tions proper ;  the  Sevundo-primarf/ ,  as  ohjcd'tve  and 
auhjadive,  as  2)crccpt!<  prtper  and  scnmfioits  proper; 
thii  Secondarfj,  as  sidtjedivc,  not  ohjective,  cognitions, 
as  sensafionff  jtroper,  not  perce[)ts  [)ropor. 

2.  The  other  point  of  view,  chronologically  poste- 
rior, l)ut  first  in  nature,  is  that  of  C)td<'rMnndinfj, 
The  princi[)l(^  of  division  is  here  the  different  charac- 
ter under  which  the  (pialities,  already  apprehended, 
are  conceived  or  construed  to  the  mind  in  thought. 
On  this  ground,  the  Primary,  heing  thought  as  essen- 
tial to  tho  notion  of  Body,  are  distinguished  from  tho 
Secundo-primari/  and  Secondary,  ns  accidental;  while 
the  Primary  and  Secundo-primary,  being  thought  us 
Dianifest  or  conceivable  in  their  oivn  nature,  are  distin- 
guished from  the  Secondary ,  ixs  in  their  own  mdnre  oc- 
cult and  inconceivable.  For  the  notion  of  Matter  hav- 
ing l)een  once  acquired,  by  reference  to  that  notion, 
the  Primary  (Qualities  are  recognized  as  its  a  priori  or 
necessary  constituents ;  and  we  dearlv  conceive  how 
th<;y  must  exist  in   bodies  in  knowing  what  they  aro 


SIR    miLIAM  llAMlLTOS^fi   rniLOSOP/lY. 


76 


ohjccllvc'ly  in  tlicnisclvos  ;  llio  SccuiKlo-i)riumry  Qiml- 
i(i('s,  again,  arc  rccogni/od  as  a  po.sleriori  or  contin- 
gent motlilioations  of  the  IVlmaiy,  and  wo  clearly  con- 
ccivc  how  tlicy  do  exist  in  boiUcH  in  knowing  what 
they  are  ohjectively  in  tlieir  conditions;  tinally,  tlio 
Secondary  (Qualities  arc  recognized  a.s  a  posleviorl  or 
conlingont  accidents  of  matter,  ))ut  wo  obscurely  snr- 
nilsc  how  they  may  exist  in  bodies  only  as  knowing 
wh.it  they  are  snbjectively  in  tiicir  elfects. 

It  is  thus  apijarent  that  the  Primary  (Qualities  may 
be  deduced  a  pvlori^  the  bare  notion  of  matter  being 
given  ;  they  being,  in  fact,  only  evolutions  of  the  con- 
ditions which  that  notion  necessarily  implies  ;  whereas 
tlu!  Secundo-primary  and  Secondary  nujst  be  induced 
a iwsleriori ;  both  being  attriluites  contingently  super- 
added to  the  naked  notion  of  matter.  The  Primary 
Qualities  thus  fall  more  under  the  point  of  view  of 
rnderstanding,  the  Secundo-primary  and  Secondary 
more  under  the  point  of  view  of  Sense. 

I.  Deduction  of  tJiG  Pruiiary  Quidiliea. — Space  or 
extension  is  a  necessary  form  of  thought.  Wc  cannot 
think  it  as  non-existent ;  we  cannot  but  think  it  as 
existent.  But  we  are  not  so  necessitated  to  imagine 
the  reality  of  aught  occupying  space  ;  for  while  nnablo 
to  conceive  as  null  the  space  in  which  the  material 
universe  exists,  the  material  universe  itself  we  can, 
without  dilliculty,  annihilate  in  thought.  All  that  ex- 
ists in,  all  that  occupies,  space,  becomes,  therefore, 
known  to  us  by  experience ;  we  acipiire,  wc  con- 
struct, its  notion.  The  notion  of  space  is  thus  native, 
or  a  priori;  the  notion  of  what  space  contains,  ad- 


n 


AX  OUTLINE   OF 


vent  it  ions,  or  a  posteriori.  Of  this  lattor  class  is  that 
of  IJody  or  Matter. 

N(j\v,  we  ask,  what  arc  the  necessary  or  essential, 
in  contrast  to  the  contingent  or  accidental,  properties 
of  Body,  as  a»)[)rehended  and  conceived  b}'  ns :'  "^riie 
answer  to  this  (jnostlon  affords  the  class  of  IVnnary, 
us  contradistir.gnishcd  from  the  two  classes  of  Secun- 
do-priniary  mid  Secondary  (^nalities. 

It  will  be  admitted  that  we  are  able  to  < onceivc 
body  oidy  us  that  which  (I.)  occupies  spaca,  and  (2.) 
is  contained  in  space.  Ihit  these  catliolic  condiJions 
of  body,  though  really  simple,  are  logically  com[»Icx. 
We  may  view  them  in  ditferent  aspects  or  relations. 

1.  Tjjc  proi)erty  of  Jillintj  space  (Solidity  in  its 
nnexdusive  signitication,  iSoHdity  Simple)  imi)li"s 
two  correlative  conditions:  (</)  the  necessity  of  fri- 
nal  extension,  in  lenr/t/t,  hreadth,  and  thiclcness  (tSolid- 
Hy  (k'ornctrical) ;  {h)  the  corres[)onding  iinjtossitti/ify 
of  licimj  reduced  frani  what  is  !n  what  is  not  thus  ex- 
tended {>>'ilidifi/  Physical,  Impenetrability.) 

(a)  Out  of  the  absolute  attribute  of  trinrd  exten- 
sion n  'ly  be  again  exi)lii'ated  *!ire(-  attributes  under 
the  form  of  necessary  relations  :  (i.)  Xninhcr  or  ])i- 
visibdily;  (ii.)  Si::e,  Hulk,  or  Maynilude;  (iii.) 
iSh<(pe  or  Fiijitre. 

i.     Uody    necessarily    exists,    and     is    necessarily 


vUown,  el 


ther 


as  one 


hod 


\  or  as  manv  bodies.    jSuin- 


tier,  i.e.,  the  alternutivo  attril»utioii  of  unity  or  plu- 
ralty,  is  thus,  in  a  tirst  res[)ect,  a  primaiy  attiibute 
of  matter,  lint,  again,  every  single  body  is  also,  in 
ditferent  points  of  view,  at  the  same  (iuic  one  and 

uppre- 


m 


imy.     Considered  as  a  lehole,  it  is,  and  i.- 


srn  wiLUA.sT  hamiltox's  pniLOsornr. 


77 


lu'iulcd  MS  ju'tusilly  one  ;  considered  as  jin  exfcmhd 
whole,  it  is,  and  is  conceived,  potentially  many. 
IJody  IxMiijif  thus  necessarily  known,  if  not  as  already 
divided,  still  as  always  capable  ot*  division,  Divisitnl- 
i(]l  or  Nuiultoi'  is  tlins  likewise,  in  a  second  respect,  a 
primary  allrihiite  of  matter. 

ii.  Hody  {^imiHo  majux^  this  or  that  bod}')  is  not 
iiilinitely  e.\tende<l.  Each  body  mnst,  therefore,  hive 
a  certain  tiMit(;  extension,  which,  ity  comparison  with 
that  of  other  i)odies,  mnst  be  less  or  greater  oretpial  ; 
in  other  words,  it  mnst  by  relatio".  have  Ji  certain 
aS7.:c,  />//?/.•,  or  M(i;/)n'tU'lc ;  and  this  again,  as  esti- 
mated both  ('/)  by  the  (juantit}  of  sjjace  oecnpied 
and  ( ';)  by  the  qnantity  of  matter  occupy ing,  affords 
likewise  the  relative  attribntes  of  Dense  and  It(tve. 

iii.  I'inally,  bodies,  as  not  intiintely  extended, 
have  conse(|nentl\'  tluir  extension  l)()nnded.  lint 
bonnded  extension  is  necessarily  of  a  certain  Sltopt  or 
Fi(inre. 

(h)  'rh(>  negative  notion,  the  impossibility  of  con- 
C(Mving  the  compression  of  bod\  fVom  an  exlendeil  to 
an  mu'xtended,  its  elimination  from  space,  allbrds  the 
positive  iU)tion  of  an  insnperable  power  in  l)ody  of 
resisting    such    conii)ression    or   eliminat i(»n. 


T\ 


lis 


r.nve,  which,  as  absohite,  is  a  conception  of  the  un- 
derstanding, not  an  apprcheiision  through  sense,  has 
received  no  precise  or  imambiguons  name.  Wv  might 
<all  it   I'UhiKtte  or  Ahsolnle  Inrtnnjn'essibilHi/. 

2.  The  other  most  general  altrihnte  of  matter,  that 
ot'het'iiij  eonliiincd  in  spnec,  in  like  manner  atlbrds,  by 
e\[)lieatlon,  an  absolute  and  a  relative  attribute  :  {a) 
the  MobiliJjy  that  is,  the  possifde  motion,  and  conse- 


78 


^.V  OVTUXE   OF 


qiK'iitly  llio  possible  rest,  of  a  body;  and  {h)  the 
Situation,  Position,  Ubication,  that  is,  the  local  cor- 
relation of  bodies  in  .space.     For 

(a)  Space  1)eing  conceived  as  intinitc  (or  rather 
bein^  inconceivable  as  not  infinite),  and  the  place  oc- 
<ii[)icd  by  body  as  finite,  body  in  general,  and  of 
conrse  each  body  in  parlictdar,  is  conceived  capabh^ 
cither  of  reniainini":  in  the  place  it  Jiow  holds,  or  of 
l)eing  translated  fVoni  (liat  to  any  then  nnoccnpicd 
l)art  of  space.     And 

(A)  As  every  pari  of  space,  i.e.,  every  potent ia! 
place,  holds  a  certain  position  relative  to  every  other. 
HO,  conscqnently,  nnist  bodies,  in  so  far  as  they  are 
all  contained  in  space,  and  as  each  occnpies  at  one 
time  one  <h4erniinate  space. 

II.  Iiulndion  of  the,  Seeunilo-P^'iniav]!  Qualities. 
These  (|naliti(>s  are  mollifications,  ]»nt  contingent  mod- 
ifications, of  the  primary.  They  sn})po.se  the  pri- 
mary :  (he  j)i  ii'.iary  do  not  si'pj)ose  them.  They  have 
all  relation  to  space,  and  motion  in  space;  and  are 
all  contained  nnder  the  cate<i-ory  of  Resistance  or 
Prcssnro.  For  they  arc  all  oidy  varions  forms  of  a 
relaiive  or  sni)ei'ablc  resistance  to  dis})lacement, 
^vhich,  we  learn  by  experience,  bodies  oppose  to  other 
bodies,  and,  among  thes  to  oar  organism  moving 
throngh  space, — a  r(>sistance  similar  in  kind  (and 
tluM'efore  ch>arly  conceived)  to  that  absolute  or  in- 
superaltlc  resistance,  which  we  are  compelled,  inde- 
j)cnd(i)fly  of  (Wperiencc,  to  think  tluit  ever}'  i)art  oi^ 
matter  wonhl  oppose  to  any  attempt  to  deprive  it  of 
its  space,  by  compressing  it  into  an  inextended. 

lu  eo  far,  thcriforcj  as  tlu'V  .-^npposo  the  Primary, 


sin    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PIULOSOPHY. 


whit'li  arc  noocssjiry,  while  llicy  themselves  are  only 
acc'idciitnl,  they  exhibit,  on  the  one  side,  what  may 
be  called  a  ({uasi-primary  (juality;  and,  in  this  re- 
spect they  ai'e  to  Ix;  njcofrnized  as  percepts,  not  sen- 
sations, as  objective  allections  of  things,  and  not  as 
siibjc(liv(^  aHectioii'  of  us.  Jiut,  on  the  other  side, 
this  obj('(tive  element  is  always  found  accompanied 
by  a  Secondary  quality  or  sensorial  passion.  Tho 
SecuiMlo-p  iiiary  (pialities  h;iv(!  thiis  always  two 
phases,  both  innnediat<dy  apjjrehended.  On  their 
primary  or  objective  phasis,  they  manifest  themselves 
as  de'jrces  of  rc'-i-^l  ce  opposed  to  our  locomotive  cn- 
ergy  ;  on  their  secondary  or  subjective  phasis,  as 
wjo./^.s' of  resistance  or  pressure  alfeiiiug  our  sentient 
organism.  Th  is  standing  l)et\veen,  and,  in  a  certain 
sorl,  made  u\-  f  the  two  classes  of  Primarv  and  Sec- 
ondary  <]Malities,  to  neither  of  which,  however,  ean 
they  be  reduced;  this  their  partly  common,  partly 
peculiar  nature,  vindicates  to  them  the  dignity  of  a 
class  apart  from  both  the  others,  and  this  under  tho 
ap[)roi)riate  appellation  of  the  Secundo-primary  Qual- 
ities. 

They  admit  of  a  classitication  from  two  diflferent 
l)oints  of  view.  Tluy  may  be  (1.)  pht/smt!l>/,  they 
may  In"  {•!.)  psychoJoijiculJy,  distributed. 

1.  Considered  pJiysimlly  ^  or  in  an  objective  rela- 
tion, they  are  to  be  reduced  to  classes  corre^ixjuding 
to  the  dill'ere!it  sources  in  external  nature  from  which 
the  resstance  or  pressure  springs.  And  these  sources 
are,  in  all,  three:  («)  that  of  Co-attraction;  {h) 
that  of  Ji'rpulsion  ;    (c)  that  of  Inertia. 

(a)    Of  the  rosistauco  of  Co-attraction  there  luay 


I 


M. 


AN  OUTUSE   OF 


ll 


be  tllstingui>lK'tl,  on  iho  sanu;  objective  principle,  two 
suhultcrn  gcncni :  (i.)  that  of  Gravity,  ov  Win  co-ixi- 
trjutiou  of  the  particles  of  hotly  in  u;ciier!il ;  and  (ii.) 
that  of  Co/te.si'ni ,  or  the  co-attiactioii  of  the  pjirticles  of 
this  and  that  l)odv  in  particular. 

i.  The  resistance  of  ( Jravit y  or  Weii^ht,  aeeordinu  io 
its  dcgi-ei;  (which,  au^ain,  is  in  proportion  to  the  BuHc 
and  Density  of  ponderahlc  matter) ,  affords,  under  it, 
the  relative  (jualitie^  of  Heavy  and  Ll<jJit  (aljsolute  and 
specific  ). 


ii.    The  resistance  of  Cohesion  (usini;  that  tcr 


ni  in 


its  most  unexchisivi'  universality)  contains  many  spe- 


cies and  connter-s 


pes 


les. 


Without  [)ro[)()sing  an  ex- 


haustive, or  accurately  suhordinated,  list,  of  theso 
there  may  be  enumcrati'd  ('-i)  the  Ilavd  and  Soft ;  (,j) 
the  Fivtn  (Fixed,  Stahh\  (  oncrc  y.  Solid, )  and  Fluid 
(Li(|uid),  the  Fhiid  beinj;  ai>ain  subdivi.K-d  into  the 
T/tic/iiiud 'J/iin  ;  (r)\\n\  Viscid  nwd  Friahle;  with  (o) 
the  T0111//1  and  Brittle  (Kuptilc  and  Irriii)lilc)  :  (  )  tiie 
Jiii/id  liUil  Flexible;  (t)  the  i'V.s.siVe  and  Iiilissih' ;  (C) 
the  JJudile  and  Inductile  (KxtensihU.  and  Incxtensi- 
ble)  ;  {r,)  the  lietrnctile  and  Irivtnictile  (Elastic  and 
Inelastic)  ;  ('')  (c()ml)ined  with  Figure j  the  Roiujh 
and  Smooth;   {>.)  \.\\q  Slippery  ixwX   Tenacvma. 

(Ji)  The  resistance  from  Hepnlsiov  is  divided  into 
thecounter-<jualities  of  (i.)  the  (relatively)  (J()iH2)ress- 
ihle  and  IncompresnUde  (ii.)  the  Ile^Uicnt  and  Ir re- 
silient (Klastie  and  Inelastic). 

(c)  The  resistance  IVom  Inertia  (combined  with 
Bulk  and  Cohesion)  comprises  the  counter-(pialities  of 
the  (relatively)  Movable  and  Immovable. 

There  are  thus  at  least  fifteen  pairs  of  counterat- 


STlt    WILLIAM  n.lMlLTOy*S  PniLOSOmY. 


81 


trllmlcs  which  wc  nuiy  rofcr  to  the  sooundo-iiriinary 
qualifies  of  body;  —  all  ohtaiiied  l»y  the  division  and 
subdivision  of  the  resistini^  forces  (►f  matter.  <i)nsid- 
ere<l  in  an  ohjective  or  physical  point  of  view. 

2.  Consi  'ered  pst/rhohxiiralhf,  or  in  'i  suhjectivo 
relation,  thev  an*  to  he  discriminated,  under  the  irenus 
of  the  lli'hdiveli/  resistiufjy  («)  accf)rdinf;  to  the  de- 
gree in  which  the  resist  in*;  force  mii^ht  counteract  our 
locomotive  facidty  or  muscular  force,  and  {h)  accord- 
in*^  to  the  mode  in  wiiich  it  niiirht  alli'ct  our  capacity 
of  feeling  or  8(M'.t  lent  organism.  Of  these  spiMJcs.thc 
former  would  contain  under  it  the  ^jfradations  of  the 
(luasi-primarv  (jua-'ity,  the  latter  the  varieties  of  the 
secon<lary  (piality  —  these  constitutin«;  the  two  (de- 
ments of  which,  in  comhination,  every  secundo-pri- 
mary  (luality  is  made  up. 

HI.  /nditdioii  of  llie  Sccoudar;/  Qindifies. — The 
i<eco)id(irt/,  as  manifested  to  us,  an*  not,  in  propriety, 
qualities  of  ho<ly  at  all.  As  apprehended,  tiny  arc 
only  subjective  alfcclions,  and  iMdoni,'  only  to  Ijodies 
in  so  far  as  these  are  siq>posed  t'irnished  with  the  pow- 
ers capable  of  specifically  (h'o'rniiniuL'"  the  various 
parts  (»f  our  nt^rvous  apparatus  to  th(^  jmi  ul!  r  action, 
or  rather  passion,  of  which  tliey  ai-e  >us<  sptiblc  ;  which 
determined  action  (U-  j)iissioii  is  the  qualily  of  ^^hieh 
alone  we  are  imuH'diately  ('OLMii/ant ,  the  evteinal  eon- 
cause  of  tliat  internal  etVect  i-emaininir  to  perception 
ahoLrether  uidvuown.  'I'hus,  the  st'condary  (jualilics 
(aiul  the  same  is  to  be  said,  ni'ifnfis  nmfandiH,  of  the 

and 


8ei 


undo-primary )    are.   eonsidcrctl    sul»j«Mtivel\ 


consJdi're<l  objectively,  air»M  ti<ujs  or  qualities  of  thinirs 
diametrically  opposed  in  nature, — of  the  or;,':inie  and 


.  ii 


h 


■  J 


M 


m 
I 


I 


■MHMWIMiMjWiaMIMiiilMaaiiH 


H 


mummiuk,  jjimwai 


T 


82 


^.V   OVTUSE    OF 


inorgniiic,  oftlio  .sontuMit  and  insciilioiit,  of  mind  and 
ninttor;  and  tlioni^li,  as  mntnally  correlative,  and  their 
several  [)air.s  rarely  obtaining  in  oonimon  langnago 
more  than  a  single  name,  they  cannot  well  bo  con- 
sidered, except  in  conjnnction,  nnder  the  same  cate- 
gory or  general  class  :  still  their  essential  contrast  of 
character  mnst  he  ever  carefully  borne  in  mind.  And 
in  speaking  of  these  ([ualities,  as  we  are  here  chiefly 
concerned  with  them  on  their  subjective  sid(%  I  re- 
quest it  may  be  observed,  that  I  shall  «Mnploy  (he  ex- 
pression >Sccon(I(ir)/  f/ucflifies  to  denote  those  phenome- 
nal aflections  determliwd  in  our  sentient  organism  by 
the  agenc}'  of  external  bodies,  and  not,  unless  when 
otIuMwise  stated,  the  occult  powers  themselves  from 
which  that  agency  proceeds. 

Of  the  secondary  (pialities,  in  this  relation,  there 
nre  various  kinds ;  the  variety  princii)ally  depending 
on  the  difterences  of  the  different  parts  of  our  nervous 
apparatus.  Such  are  the  proiier  sensiblos,  the  idio- 
pathic affections  of  our  several  organs  of  sense,  as 
Coh)r,  Sound,  Flavtu',  Savor,  and  Tactual  Sensation; 
such  arethe  feelings  from  Ileal ,  Kloctricity,  Galvanism, 
etc.  ;  nor  need  it  be  added,  such  are  the  muscular  and 
cutaneous  sensations  which  accompany  the  percci)tion 
of  the  sf'cundo-primarv  (pialilies.  Such,  though  less 
dirtH'tly  the  vcsnW  ot"  foieign  causes,  are  Titillation, 
Snee/iog.  Horripilation,  Shuddering,  the  feeling  of 
what  is  railed  S«'tting-the-teeth-on-edge,  etc.,  etc.  ; 
such,  in  tine,  ar  til  the  various  sensations  of  bodily 
pleasure  and  pain  determin(Ml  by  the  action  of  external 
stinmli.     (/hhrs  Works,  ^otv  D.) 

I^'rom  tije  above  accuuut  of  the  distinction  between 


5//J    in  L  LI  A  XT  HAMILTON'S  PniLOSOPnY. 


88 


O 

sa 
o 


^  .?    "°    "3 

"W   -3    '~^  "3     £ 

5    §  ^   §    « 


*       -5       •- 
2        3%) 


I 
E 

-C 


'"^      ^"^      ^^     ^-S      ^-^      "^         "^     '"*i.       >-V      "XJ        ,«^        k.         y»V      ^1^         C 

^■^    ^^    ^»-^    >»'     Nmi'  "^.^  ^^  Nm'  ^i^    ^vm' 


^  1 


60 

a 


bo 


C'    M 


Ci 


8  •£ 

a    .•    o 


< 

Of 

u 

H 

O 
>— I 
H 
<^ 
O 


7. 


II 


ea 

■_■ 

ti 

Y 

c 

;.j 

-1 

-1 

i< 

u 

a 
9 

S 

0 

B 

>i 

o 

H 

^ 

o 
> 

•? 

3 

•< 

1 

> 

3 

a 

3 

^ 

k 

ai 

n 

t" 

5 

& 

'#J      ,"      B      w      -J      5*      i      w      * 

-  •;;  s  .2 1  2  S  5  (P 


-•V" 


or 


a 

o 

n 

O 


H 


Ay  OVTLISR   OF 


8ons!ition  and  perception,  nnd  of  tlic  (llstinrtion  in  tho 
qualities  of  matter,  it  will  l)e  seen  (1.)  that  in  percep- 
tion proper  tlie  ol»jeet  perceived  is  always  either  (a) 
n  pritnnri/  quality,  or  (J))  the  quasi-primary  phasis 
of  a  sccundo-priniary,  (2.)  that  the  primary  qualities 
are  perceivtHl  as  in  our  or(/anism,  {\\v  quasi-priuiari/ 
phasis  of  the  seeundo-primary  as  in  correlation  to  our 
or<^anism.  Thus  a  perceiitioii  of  the  primary  (pjalities 
does  not,  originally  and  in  itself,  reveal  to  us  tho  ex- 
istences and  (pialitative  existence,  of  aught  beyond 
tho  organism,  apprehended  hy  us  as  extended,  fig- 
ured,  divided,  etc.     The  primary  qualities  of  things 


external  to   our  ortranism   wc  do  not 


perceive,  i.e., 


immvdialvhj  liiow.     For  these  wo  only  learn  to  infer^ 
from  the  atlcctions  which  we  come  to  find  that  thev 


det 


ernuiie  in  our  orirans 


atlections  which,  vieldiuff 


us  a  perception  of  organic  extension,  we  at  length  dis- 
cover, l»y  observation  and  induction,  to  imply  a  cor- 
responding extension  in  the  extra-organic  agents. 

Farther,  in  no  part  of  \\w  organism  have  wo  any 
nppreluMision,  any  immediate  knowledge,  of  extension 
in  its  true  and  absolute  magnitude  ;  p('rce|)tion  noting 
only  the  fact  given  in  sensation,  and  sensation  alford- 
ing  no  standard,  by  which  to  measure  lh(>  dimensions 
given  in  one  sentient  part  with  those  given  in  another. 
For,  as  jx'rceived,  extension  is  only  the  recognition 
of  one  o'.ganie  alfcitiou  in  its  outness  from  another  ;  — 
as  a  miniunun  of  extension  is  thus  to  perception  tho 
smallest  extent  of  organism  in  which  sensations  can 
be  discriminated  as  plural  ; — and  as  in  one  part  of  tho 
organism  tlu^  smalh'st  extent  is  jjcrhaps  some  million, 
certainl\  sotne  mvi-ia<l,  times  smallci- than  in  others, — 


li 


sii:  WILLIAM  hamii.tos's  r/iiT.osnrnr. 


85 


it  follows  tliiit,  to  i)('iV('i)lioii,  IIk'  same  real  oxlonslon 
will  jippciir  in  this  plju-c  of  llio  Iiody  .soino  iiiillion  or 
niyriiul  tiinos  ".Moater  than  in  that.  Nor  docs  Ihis 
(lilfcrtMU'e  snbsist  onlv  as  helu'cen  sense  and  sense: 
for  in  tho  same  sense,  and  even  in  that  sense  which 
has  verv  commonly  heen  held  exclnsivelv  to  allord  a 
knowIcd<re  of  al)solnte  extension,  I  mvi\\\  tourli  j)V(tpe\\ 
the  miniimun,  at  one  pari  of  the  body,  is  tifly  times 
greater  than  it  is  at  another. 

The  oxist«'nce  «)f  an  «'x(ra-or^anic  world  is  ai)])ro- 
hendcd,  not  in  a  perception  of  the  primary  ipuilitii's, 
l»nt  in  a  perception  of  tin-  <inasi-priuiary  phasjs  of  the 
secundo-primary,  that  is,  in  tlic^  cons<'ionsness  that 
our  locomotive  eneriry  \^  resisted,  and  not  resiste<l  hy 
aui^ht  in  oiir  oriranism  itselt'.  For  in  tin;  conscious- 
ness of  bcinu^  thus  resisted  is  involved,  as  a  correla- 
tive, the  cons<'iousness  of  a  resisting  somethin;^  e.\- 
teinal  to  our  or<jfanism.  Uoth  are,  therefore,  conjin)ctly 
a])prcheinled.  'J'his  experience  presupposes  indeed 
a  [)ossession  of  the  notions  of  space  and  motion  in 
space.  Ihil  (Ui  the  doctrine  that  space,  as  a  ne(;essary 
eondili(»n,  is  a  native  element  of  lhou;rht;  and  since 
the  notion  of  any  one  of  its  dimensions,  as  correlative 
to,  must  inevilahly  imply,  the  others, —  it  is  evident 
that  every  pcrccpti(»n  of  s<Misations  out  of  sensations 
will  atl'ord  the  occasion,  in  appn-hendin*:^  any  one,  of 
conct'ivins;  all  th«'  three  extensions,  that  is,  of  (-on- 
ceivinjij  space.  On  the  doctiine,  ami  in  the  laniruage, 
of  lieid,  our  ori<;inal  cognitiims  of  space,  motion,  etc., 
arc  instinctive, — a  view  which  is  confuined  hy  the  anal- 
ogy of  thos(>  of  the  lowci-  animals  whi<h  have  the 
power  of  locomotion  at   birth.       It  is   truly  an  idle 


i 


iff  I.. 

rim 


AJr  OUTLIXK   OF 


probloni  to  attempt  imagining;  tlic  stops  hy  whicli  wo 
may  1)0  supposod  to  havo  acciiiirod  the  notion  of  oxton- 
slon,  Avhon  in  fact  we  are  nnahio  to  inia^jine  to  our- 
Bolvos  the  possibility  of  that  notir)n  not  l)ein<^  always 
in  onr  possession.  Wo  have,  therefore,  a  twofold  eog- 
nition  of  space  ;  (1.)  an  a  2>riori  or  native  imagination 
of  it,  in  «ronoral,  ns  a  necessary  condition  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  tli()U«,dit ;  and  (2.)  niider  that,  an  a 
posteriori  or  adrenfifinus  percept  of  it,  in  particnlar, 
as  eon(in<^ently  apprehended  in  this  or  that  actual 
comi)lexus  of  sensations.  {R('i(l\s  Works,  pp.  881 
-2.) 

AVhen,  therefore,  I  eoneenlrato  my  attention  in  the 
Him[)l(*it  act  of  J'orcoption,  T  return  from  my  observa- 
tion with  th(!  most  irresistibh;  conviction  of  (iro  facts, 
or  rather  two  branches  of  the  .scone  fact,  that  lam, 
and  that  somethitu/  (lijlcrcnt  froia  nie  exists.  li\  this 
act,  I  am  conscious  of  myself  as  the  [)erceivin<;  suhjrct, 
and  of  an  external  reality  as  the  ohject  perceived  ;  and 
I  am  conscious  of  both  i'xistencos  in  the  same  indivis- 
ible moment  of  intuition.  The  knowledge  of  the  siib- 
jeot  docs  not  precede  or  follow  the  knowledge  of  the 
object  ;  neither  determines,  neither  is  determined  by, 
the  other.  The  two  terms  of  correlation  stand  in 
nuitnal  counterpoise  and  otjual  independence  ;  they 
are  given  as  connected  in  the  synthesis  of  knowledge, 
but  as  contrasted  in  the  antithesis  ,»f  existence. 

Stich  is  the  fact  of  Pi-rception  revealed  in  conscious- 
ness, and  as  it  dcti-rmines  maidiind  in  general  in  their 
C(jual  assurance  of  the  reality  of  an  external  world, 
and  of  the  existence  of  their  own  minds.  Conscious- 
ness declares  our  knowledge  of  material  (jualities  to 


Slit    WILLIAM   HAMILTON'S    PIIILOSOI'IIY, 


87 


vis- 

iil)- 
Iho 

il  ill 

hey 
Hgc, 

loiis- 
hcir 
)rld, 
lous- 
js  to 


1)0  intuitive.  Nor  is  the  fact,  as  given,  denied  even 
by  those  who  disallow  its  truth.  So  clear  is  the  de- 
liverance, that  even  the  philosophers  who  reject  an 
intuitive  perception  find  it  inipossihje  not  to  admit 
that  their  doctrine  stands  decidedly  opposed  to  tho 
voice  of  consciousness  and  the  natural  conviction  of 
mankind.^ 

The  contents  of  the /ac^  of  perception,  as  fjivcn  in 
consciousness,  being  thus  established,  what  are  tho 
conse(juences  to  philosophy,  according  as  tiie  truth  of 
its  testimony  (I.)  is,  or  (II.)  is  not,  admitted? 

(I.)  If  the  veracity  of  consciousness  be  inicondition- 
allv  admitted  ;  if  tho  intuitive  knowledge  of  mind 
and  niattcr,  and  tho  conse(|uent  reality  of  their  antith- 
esis bo  taken  as  truths,  to  l)e  explained  if  nossible, 
but  in  themselves  to  be  held  as  paramount  to  all  doubt, 
—  the  doctrine  is  established  which  wo  would  call  tho 
scheme  of  JVatia'al  Realism,  or  N^atural  Dualism. 

(II.)  Hut,  on  tho  other  alternative,  five  great  varia- 
tions from  truth  and  nature  maybe  conceived;  and 
all  of  thes(^  have  actually  found  their  advocates,  ac- 
cording as  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  in  the  fact 
of  perception  (1.),  is  wholhj,  or  (2.)  is  partialli/,  re- 
jected. 

1.  If  irholli/  rejected,  that  is,  if  nothing  l)ut  tlse 
phenomenal  reality  of  the  fact  itself  be  allowed,  tho 
result  is  ^lhilis7n. 

2.  \{  partially  rejected,  four  schemes  emerge,  ac- 
cording to  the  way  in  which  tho  fact  is  tampered  with. 


"  For  ndmissions  to  this  effect,  sec  JieuVa  Works,  pp.  747-8.  — 
J.  C.  M. 


it 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


WHIM    12.5 


.i    llitt 


m  IIIII22 

2.0 


mm 

1.4    III  1.6 


p;^ 


<p 


/}. 


'e^. 


e. 


el 


VI 


<pj 


%>" 


^;. 


y 


M 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


^ 

^^t 


'S^ 


\ 


iV*       4> 


o 


6^ 


^m    o^ 


«"*»        j!      ^^ 


4*0 


Ua 


t-?/ 


\\ 


6^ 


88 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


o.§5i 


o 

9 


O 

eg. 


n     o 


"« "5 


^i^ 


P<  A 


S     .-     "?»     IT! 


to  s 


C^  0< 


:  g, 

2^  .-2 


2   2 
g  P. 

o    g 

§  a 


S      iB 


I 


•  i» 


SIR    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PHILOSOPHY. 


89 


a 


II 

'T  5 


(i.)  If  the  veracit}'  of  consciousness  be  allowed  to 
the  equipoise  of  the  object  and  subject  in  the  act,  but 
rejected  as  to  the  reality  of  their  antithesis,  the  system 
of  Absolute  Identity  emerges,  which  reduces  both  mind 
and  matter  to  phenomenal  modifications  of  the  same 
common  substance. 

(ii.)  and  (iii.)  If  the  testimony  of  consciousness  be 
refused  to  the  co-originality  and  reciprocal  indepen- 
dence of  the  subject  and  object,  two  schemes  are  de- 
termined, according  as  the  one  or  the  other  of  the 
terms  is  placed  as  the  original  and  genetic.  Is  the 
object  educed  from  the  subject.  Idealism;  is  the  sub- 
ject educed  from  the  object.  Materialism,  is  the  result. 

These  systems  are  all  conclusions  from  an  original 
interpretation  of  the  fact  of  consciousness  in  per- 
ception, carried  intrepidly  forth  to  its  legitimate 
issue.  But  there  is  one  scheme,  which,  violating  the 
integrity  of  this  fact,  and,  with  the  complete  idealist, 
regarding  the  object  of  consciousness  in  perception 
as  only  a  modification  of  the  percipient  subject,  or,  at 
least,  a  phenomenon  numerically  difterent  from  the 
object  it  represents,  —  endeavors,  however,  to  stop 
short  of  the  negation  of  an  external  world,  the  reality 
of  which,  and  the  knowledge  of  whose  reality,  it  seeks 
by  various  hypotheses  to  establish  and  explain.  This 
scheme,  —  which  we  would  term  Gosmothelic  Idealism, 
Hypothetical  Realism,  or  Hypothetical  Dualism,  — 
although  the  most  inconsequent  of  all  systems,  has 
been  embraced,  under  various  forms,  by  the  immense 
majority  of  philosophers.    {Reid's  IFbrA^s,  pp. 748-9.)* 


'  See  also  Discussions,  pp.  65-6 ;  and  Led.  on  Metaph.  (XVI.) 
Seid's  Works,  Note  C,  contain  a  more  elaborate  classification  of  the 


mm 


\\ 
1' 

l! 


90 


\h 


Ay  OUTLINE   OF 


§  2.   SELF-CONSCIOVSNESS. 

This  faculty  will  not  occupy  us  long,  as  the  princi- 
pal questions  regarding  its  nature  and  operation  have 
been  already  considered,  in  treating  of  Consciousness 
in  general. 

I  formerly  showed  that  it  is  impossible  to  distin- 
guish Perception,  or  the  other  Special  Faculties,  from 
Consciousness,  —  in  other  words,  to  reduce  Conscious- 
ness itself  to  a  special  faculty.  I  stated,  however, 
that  though  it  be  incompetent  to  establish  a  faculty 
for  the  immediate  knowledge  of  the  external  world, 
and  a  faculty  for  the  immediate  knowledge  of  the  in- 
ternal, as  two  ultimate  powers,  exclusive  of  each 
other,  and  not  merely  subordinate  forms  of  a  higher 
immediate  knowledge,  under  which  they  are  compre- 
hended or  carried  up  into  one,  —  I  stated,  I  say,  that 
though  the  immediate  knowledges  of  matter  and  of 
mind  are  still  only  modifications  of  Consciousness,  yet 
that  their  discrimination,  as  subaltern  faculties,  is 
both  allowable  and  convenient. 

The  sphere  and  character  of  this  faculty  of  acquisi- 
tion will  be  best  illustrated  by  contrasting  it  with  the 
other.  Perception  is  the  power  by  which  we  are 
made  aware  of  the  phenomena  of  the  external  world  ; 
Self-consciousness,  the  power  by  which  we  apprehend 
the  phenomena  of  the  internal.     The  objects  of  the 

various  theories  of  perception.  In  the  Lect.  on  3Ietaph.  (Lect. 
XSV.)  will  be  found  a  vindication  of  Natural  Realism;  and  in  the 
following  lecture,  a  polemic  against  Hypothetical  Realism.  — 
J.  C.  M. 


sin   WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PHILOSOPilY. 


91 


former  are  all  presented  to  us  in  space  and  time ; 
space  and  time  are  thus  the  two  conditions,  —  the 
two  fundamental  forms  of  external  perception.  The 
objects  of  the  latter  are  all  apprehended  by  us  in  time 
and  in  self;  time  and  self  are  thus  the  two  conditions, 
— the  two  fundamental  forms, — of  Internal  Perception 
or  Self-consciousness.  Time  is  thus  a  form  or  condi- 
tion common  to  both  faculties ;  w^hile  space  is  a  form 
peculiar  to  the  one,  self  a  form  peculiar  to  the  other. 
What  I  mean  by  the  fonn  or  condition  of  a  faculty, 
is  that  frame,  that  setting  (if  I  may  so  speak),  out 
of  which  no  object  can  be  known.  Thus,  we  only 
know,  through  Self-consciousness,  the  phenomena  of 
the  Internal  world,  as  modifications  of  the  indivisible 
Ego  or  conscious  unit ;  we  only  know,  through  per- 
ception, the  phenomena  of  the  External  world,  under 
space,  or  as  modifications  of  the  extended  and  divisible 
Non-ego  or  known  plurality.  Tm^o  difllculties,  how- 
ever, may  here  be  suggested  :  — 

1.  It  may  be  asked,  if  self,  or  Ego,  be  the  form  of 
Self-consciousness,  why  is  the  not-self,  the  Non-ego, 
not  in  like  manner  called  the  form  of  Perception  ?  To 
this  I  reply,  that  the  not-self  is  only  a  negation,  and, 
though  it  discriminates  the  objects  of  the  external  cog- 
nition from  those  of  the  internal,  it  does  not  afford  to 
the  former  any  positive  bond  of  union  among  them- 
selves. This,  on  the  contrary,  is  supplied  to  them  by 
the  form  of  Space,  out  of  wiiich  they  can  neither  be 
perceived,  nor  imagined  by  the  mind.  Space,  there- 
fore, as  the  positive  condition  under  Avhich  the  Non- 
ego  is  necessarily  known  and  imagined,  and  through 


iiiMiiiiiiieiM 


I  r 


|i 


i; 


'y. ' 


■\k 


•h 


92 


AX  OUTLINE   OF 


which  it  receives  its  unity  in  Consciousness,  is  properly 
said  to  aflford  the  condition,  or  form,  of  External  Per- 
ception. 

2.  But  a  more  important  question  may  be  started. 
If  Space,  if  extension,  be  a  necessary  form  of 
thought,  this,  it  may  be  argued,  proves  that  the  mind 
itself  is  extended.  The  reasoning  here  proceeds  upon 
the  assumption  that  the  qualities  of  the  sul)ject  know- 
ing must  be  similar  to  the  qualities  of  the  ol)ject 
known.  This,  as  I  have  already  stated,  is  a  mere 
philosophical  crotchet,  —  an  assumption  without  a 
shadow  even  of  probability  in  its  favor.  That  the 
mind  has  the  power  of  perceiving  extended  objects 
is  no  ground  for  holding  that  it  is  itself  extended. 
Still  less  can  it  be  maintained,  that  because  it  has 
ideally  a  native  or  necessary  conception  of  Space,  it 
must  really  occupy  Space.  Nothing  can  be  more  ab- 
surd. On  this  doctrine,  to  exist  as  extended  is  sup- 
posed necessary  in  order  to  think  extension.  But  if 
this  analogy  hold  good,  the  sphere  of  ideal  Space, 
which  the  mind  can  imagine,  ought  to  be  limited  to 
the  sphere  of  real  Space  which  the  mind  actually  fills. 
This  is  not,  however,  the  case ;  for  though  the  mind 
be  not  absolutely  unlimited  in  its  power  of  conceiving 
Space,  still  the  compass  of  thought  may  be  viewed  as 
infinite  in  this  respect,  as  contrasted  Avith  the  petty 
point  of  extension,  which  the  advocates  of  the  doc- 
trine in  question  allow  it  to  occupy  in  its  corporeal 
domicile. 

The  faculty  of  Self-consciousness  afibrds  us  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  phenomena  of  our  minds.  It  is  the  source 
of  Internal  experience.     You  will,  therefore,  observe, 


sin  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  rniLosornr. 


93 


that,  like  External  Perception,  it  only  furnishes  us 
with  foots  ;  and  that  the  use  we  make  of  these  facts 
—  that  is,  what  we  find  in  them,  M'hat  wc  deduce 
from  them  —  belongs  to  a  difibrent  process  of  intelli- 
gence. Self-consciousness  affords  the  materials  equally 
to  all  systems  of  philosophy ;  all  equally  admit  it,  and 
all  elaborate  the  materials  which  this  foculty  supplies, 
according  to  the^'  fashion.  (Led.  on  Metavh  ' 
XXIX.)  ^     ' 


. 


If 


^(^i 


[if 
ft 


% 


H'. 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  COGNITIONS. 


CHAPTER   II. 

TIIE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. —  MEMORY  PROPER. 

"Through  the  powers  of  External  and  Internal  Per- 
ception, we  are  enabled  to  acquire  information,  — 
experience  ;  but  this  acquisition  is  not  of  itself  inde- 
pendent and  complete  ;  it  supposes  that  we  are  also 
able  to  retain  knowledge  acquired,  for  we  cannot  be 
said  to  get  what  we  are  unable  to  keep.  The  faculty 
of  Acquisition  is,  therefore,  only  realized  through  an- 
other faculty,  —  the  faculty  of  Retention  or  Conserva- 
tion. Here  we  have  another  example  of  what  I  have 
already  frequently  had  occasion  to  suggest  to  your 
observation ;  we  have  two  faculties,  two  elementary 
phenomena,  evidently  distinct,  and  yet  each  depend- 
ing on  the  other  for  its  realization.  Without  a  power 
of  Acquisition,  a  power  of  Conservation  could  not  be 
exerted  ;  and,  without  the  latter,  the  former  would  be 
frustrated,  for  we  should  lose  as  fast  as  we  acquired. 
But  as  the  faculty  of  Acquisition  would  be  useless 
without  the  faculty  of  Retention,  so  the  faculty  of  Re- 
tention would  be  useless  without  the  faculties  of  Re- 

94 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  irAMlLTOA^S   pniLOSOl'IlY. 


95 


production  and  Representation.  Tliat  the  mind 
retained,  beyond  the  sphere  of  conscionsness,  a  treas- 
ury of  knowledge  would  be  of  no  avail,  did  it  not 
possess  the  power  of  bringing  out,  and  of  displaying, 
—  in  other  words,  of  reproducing,  and  representing, — 
this  knowlcdu^c  in  consciousness.  But  because  the 
faculty  of  Conservation  would  be  fruitless  without  the 
ulterior  faculties  of  Reproduction  and  Representation, 
we  ai'e  not  to  confound  these  faculties,  or  to  view  the 
act  of  mind,  which  is  their  joint  result,  as  a  simple 
and  elementary  phenomenon.  Tiiough  mutually  de- 
pendent on  each  other,  the  faculties  of  Conservation, 
Reproduction,  and  Representation  are  governed  l>y  dif- 
ferent laws,  and,  in  different  individuals,  are  found 
greatly  varying  in  their  comparative  vi^or.  The  in- 
timate connection  of  tliese  three  faculties,  or  elemen- 
tary activities,  is  the  cause,  however,  wiiy  they  have 
not  been  distinguished  in  the  analysis  of  philosophers  ; 
and  why  their  distinction  is  not  precisely  marked  in 
ordinary  language.  In  ordinary  language,  wc  have, 
indeed,  words  which,  without  excluding  the  other  fac- 
ulties, denote  one  of  these  more  emphatically.  Thus, 
in  tLo  term  Memory^  the  Conservative  Faculty,  the 
phenomenon  of  Retention  is  the  central  notion,  w4th 
wdiich,  however,  those  of  Reproduction  and  Represen- 
tation are  associated.  In  the  term  Itecollection,  again, 
the  phenomenon  of  Reproduction  is  the  principal  no- 
tion, accompanied,  however,  T)y  those  of  Retention 
and  Representation,  as  its  subordinates. 

By  Memory  or  Retention,  you  will  see,  is  only 
meant  the  condition  of  Reproduction  ;  and  it  is,  tliere- 
fore,  evident  that  it  is  only  by  an  extension  of  the 


9G 


AK  OUTLIXE    OF 


h 


li! 


III 


■'». 


term  tlmt  it  can  be  called  a  faculty,  that  is,  an  active 
power.  It  is  more  a  passive  resistance  than  an  energy, 
and  ought,  therefore,  perhaps  to  receive  rather  the 
appellation  of  a  capacity.  But  the  nature  of  this  ca- 
pacity or  faculty  we  must  now  proceed  to  consider. 
(^Led.  on  3Ietctjph.,  XXX.) 


§  1.     THE  FACT  OF  nETENTIOX. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  I  presume  that  the  fact  of 
Retention  is  admitted.  AVc  are  conscious  of  certain 
cognitions  as  acquired,  and  we  are  conscious  of  these 
cognitions  as  resuscitated.  That,  in  the  interval, 
when  out  of  consciousness,  these  cognitions  do  con- 
tinue  to  subsist  in  the  mind,  is  certainly  an  hypothe- 
sis, because  whatever  is  out  of  consciousness  can  only 
be  assumed  ;  but  it  is  an  hypothesis  which  we  are  not 
only  warranted,  but  necessitated,  by  the  phenomena, 
to  establish.  For,  besides  the  phenomena  of  Reten- 
tion, there  are  many  which  it  is  impossible  to  explain 
by  any  other  hypothesis  ;  and  I  shall  here  adduce  the 
evidence  which  appears  to  me  not  merely  to  warrant, 
but  to  necessitate  the  conclusion,  that  the  spliere  of 
our  conscious  modifications  is  only  a  small  circle  in 
the  centre  of  a  far  wider  sphere  of  action  and  passion, 
of  which  we  arc  only  conscious  through  its  eflccts. 

I.  External  Perception.  Let  ns  take  our  first  ex- 
ample from  Perception,  and  in  that  faculty  let  us 
commence  with 

1.  The  sense  of  Sight.  Now,  you  either  already 
know,  or  can  be  at  once  informed,  what  it  is  that  has 


SIR  WILLIA^r  haaMilton^s  rniLosornr. 


97 


the 
•ant, 
re  of 
•Ic  in 
«sion, 
;s.  , 
it  cx- 
et  us 

ready 
,t  has 


olttained  the  name  of  Minimum  Vlsihih,  You  are  of 
course  aware,  in  general,  that  vision  is  the  rcsuU  of 
the  rays  of  light  reflected  from  the  surface  of  objects 
to  the  eye  ;  a  greater  number  of  rays  is  reflected  from 
a  larjfer  surface  ;  if  the  superficial  extent  of  an  object, 
and,  consequently,  the  number  of  rnys  Avliidi  it  re- 
flects, be  diminished  beyond  a  certain  limit,  the  ob- 
ject liccomes  invisible ;  and  the  Minimum  Visibile  is 
the  smallest  expanse  which  can  be  seen, — Avhich  can 
coniscioiisly  aflect  us,  —  which  we  can  be  conscious  of 
seeing.  This  being  understood,  it  is  plain  that,  if  we 
divide  this  Minimum  Visibile  into  two  parts,  neither 
half  can,  by  itself,  be  an  object  of  vision,  or  vi^^ual 
consciousness.  They  are,  severally  and  apart,  to 
consciousness  as  zero.  But  it  is  evident  that  each 
half  must,  by  itself,  have  produced  in  us  a  certain 
modification,  real  though  unperceived  ;  for  as  the  per- 
ceived whole  is  nothing  but  the  union  of  the  unper- 
ceived halves,  so  the  Perception  —  the  perceived 
aflection  itself  of  which  we  are  conscious  —  is  only 
the  sum  of  two  modifications,  each  of  which  scverall}- 
eludes  oar  consciousness.  When  we  look  at  a  distant 
forest,  we  perceive  a  certain  expanse  of  gi'een.  Of 
this,  a.s  an  aflection  of  our  organism,  we  are  clearly 
and  distinctly  conscious.  Now,  the  expanse,  of  Avhich 
we  are  conscious,  is  evidently  made  up  of  parts  of 
which  wc  are  not  conscious.  No  leaf,  perhaps  no 
tree,  may  be  separately  visible.  But  the  greenness 
of  the  forest  is  made  up  of  the  greenness  of  the 
leaves ;  that  is,  the  total  impression  of  which  we  are 
conscious  is  made  up  of  an  infinitude  of  small  im- 
pressions of  which  we  are  not  conscious. 


T 


i 


98 


AN  OUTLINE  OF 


2.  Sense  of  Eearinrj.  —  Talcc  another  example, 
from  the  sense  of  hearing.  In  this  sense,  there  is,  in 
like  manner,  a  Minimum  Audihile^  tiuit  is,  a  sonnd  the 
least  which  can  como  into  perception  and  conscious- 
ness. But  tliis  Minimum  Aiullbih  is  made  up  of  parts 
"which  severally  affect  the  sense,  but  of  Avliich  aft'oc- 
tions,  separately,  wo  arc  not  conscious,  though  of 
their  joint  result  we  arc.  "Wo  must,  therefore,  hero 
likewise  admit  the  reality  of  modifications  beyond  tho 
sphere  of  consciousness.  To  take  a  special  example. 
"When  we  hear  the  distant  murmur  of  tlic  sea,  —  what 
arc .  the  constituents  of  the  total  perception  of  which 
we  are  conscious?  This  murmur  is  a  sum  made  up 
of  parts,  and  the  sum  would  be  as  zero  if  the  parts 
did  not  count  as  something.  The  noise  of  the  sea  is 
the  complement  of  the  noise  of  its  jcveral  waves  ;  — 

TzmTiiov  r£  xu/mTiov  'AvrjpiOiiov  yiXaff/xa^—  ;  and  if  thc  uoiso  of 

each  wave  made  no  impression  on  our  sense,  the  noiso 
of  the  sea,  as  the  result  of  these  impressions,  could 
not  be  realized.  But  tho  noise  of  each  several  wave, 
at  the  distance  we  suppose,  is  inaudible ;  Ave  must, 
however,  admit  that  they  produce  a  certain  modifica- 
tion, beyond  consciousness,  on  the  percipient  subject ; 
for  this  is  necessarily  involved  in  tho  reality  of  their 
result. 

3.  Thc  same  is  equally  the  case  in  the  otJier  senses; 
the  taste  or  smell  of  a  dish,  be  it  agreeable  or  disa- 
greeable, is  composed  of  a  multitude  of  se^^erally  im- 
perceptible effects,  which  tho  stimulating  particles  of 
the  viand  cause  on  different  points  of  the  nervous  ex- 
pansion of  the  gustatory  and  olfactory  organs  ;  and 
the  pleasant  or  painful  feeling  of  smoothness  or  rough- 


sin    n'lLLIAM  HAMILTON'S    I'lIILOSOP/ir. 


99 


igh- 


ncs3  {a  the  result  of  tin  infinity  of  unfolt  modifications, 
whicli  the  body  handlod  determines  on  the  countless 
papilltc  of  the  nerves  of  touch. 

II.  Association  of  Ideas.  —  Let  us  now  take  an  ex- 
ample from  another  mental  process.  AVe  have  not 
yet  spoken  of  what  is  called  the  Association  of  Ideas  ; 
and  it  is  enough  for  our  present  purpose  that  you 
should  be  aware,  that  one  thought  suggests  another 
in  conformity  with  certain  determinate  laws,  —  laws 
to  which  the  successions  of  our  whole  mental  states 
arc  subjected.  Now,  it  sometimes  happens,  that  we 
find  one  thought  rising  immediately  after  another  in 
consciousness,  but  whose  consecution  we  can  reduce 
to  no  law  of  association,  ia  these  cases  we  ran 
generally  discover,  by  nn  attentive  observation,  that 
these  two  thoughts,  though  not  themselves  associated, 
are  each  associated  with  certain  other  thoughts,  so 
that  the  whole  consecution  would  have  been  reirular 
had  these  intermediate  thoughts  come  into  conscious- 
ness between  the  two  which  are  not  immediately  as- 
sociated. 

You  are  probably  aAvare  of  the  following  fact  in 
mechanics.  If  a  number  of  billiard  balls  be  place«l 
in  a  straight  row,  and  touching  each  other,  and  if  a 
ball  be  made  to  strike,  in  the  line  of  the  row,  the  ball 
at  one  end  of  the  series,  what  will  happen?  The  mo- 
tion of  the  impinging  ball  is  not  divided  among  the 
whole  row ;  this,  which  we  might  a  j)nori  have  ex- 
pected, does  not  Vappen ;  but  the  impetus  is  trans- 
mitted through  the  intermediate  balls,  which  remain 
each  in  its  place,  to  the  ball  at  the  opposite  end  of 
the  series,  and  this  ball  alone  is  impelled  on.    Some- 


100 


^l.V  OUTLISE    ':f 


l!  ' 
i;  i 


ill 


(: 


I  ■  'i 


tliiiiff  like  this  seems  often  to  occur  in  the  train  of 
thought.  One  idea  mediately  suggests  another  into 
consciousness,  —  the  suggestion  passing  through  one 
or  more  ideas  which  do  not  themselves  rise  into  con- 
sciousness. The  awakening  and  awakened  ideas  here 
correspond  to  the  ball  striking  and  the  ball  struck  off; 
while  the  intermediate  ideas  of  Avhich  we  are  uncon- 
scious, but  Avliich  carry  on  the  suggestion,  resemble 
the  intermediate  balls  which  remain  moveless,  but 
communicate  the  impulse.  An  instance  of  this  occnrs 
to  me,  Avith  which  I  was  recently  struck.  Thinking 
of  Ben  Lomond,  this  thought  was  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  the  thought  of  the  Prussian  sj'stcm  of  edu- 
cation. Now,  conceivable  connection  between  these 
two  ideas,  in  themselves,  there  was  none.  A  little 
reflection,  however,  explained  the  anomaly.  On  my 
last  visit  to  the  mountain,  I  had  met  upon  its  summit 
a  German  gentleman,  and  though  I  had  no  conscious- 
ness of  the  intermediate  and  unawakencd  links  between 
Ben  Lomond  and  the  Prussian  schools,  they  v/erc  un- 
doubtedly these;  the  German,  —  Germany,  —  Prus- 
sia,—  and,  these  media  being  admitted,  the  connec- 
tion between  the  extremes  was  manifest. 

INIr.  Stewart  explains  this  phenomenon  on  a  difler- 
ent  h3'pothcsis  ;  l)ut  his  explanation  will  be  considered 
in  connection  with  the  similar  explanation,  which  he 
gives,  of 

III.  Our  Acquired  Habits  and  Dexterities^  which 
in  like  manner  arc  capable  of  explanation  only  on  the 
theory  I  have  advanced.  Li  these  phenomena  the 
consecution  of  various  operations  is  extremely  rapid  ; 
bu^  it  is  allowed  on  all  hands  that,  though  avc  are  con- 


sni  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  piiilosopuy. 


101 


scions  of  the  series  of  operations,  that  is,  of  the  men- 
tal state  which  tliey  conjunctly  constitute, — of  the 
several  operations  themselves  as  acts  of  volition  we 
arc  wholly  incognizant.  Now,  this  incognizancc  may 
be  explained  1)11  three  possible  hypotheses.  The  first 
regards  the  whole  series  of  operations  as  merely  me- 
chanical or  automatic,  and  thus  denying  to  the  mind 
all  active  or  voluntary  intervention,  consequently  re- 
moves them  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness.  The 
second,  again,  allows  to  each  several  motion  a  sepa- 
rate act  of  conscious  volition  ;  v.iiile  the  tJiinl,  which 
I  would  maintain,  holds  a  medium  between  these, 
constitutes  the  mind  the  agent,  accords  to  it  a  con- 
scious volition  over  the  series,  but  denies  to  it  a  con 
sciousness  and  deliberate  volition  in  rcirard  to  each 
separate  movement  in  the  series  Avhich  it  determines. 

1.  The  tirst  of  these  has  been  maintained,  among 
others,  by  two  philosophers  who  in  other  points  are 
net  frequently  at  one,  —  by  Reid  and  Hartley. 
"IIal)it,"  says  Eeid,  "differs  from  instinct,  not  in  its 
nature,  but  in  its  origin ;  the  last  being  natural,  the 
first  acquired.  Both  operate  without  will  or  inten- 
tion, without  thought,  and  therefore  may  be  called 
mechanical  principles.'' 

But  this  opinion  is  unphilosophical  for  two  reasons. 
(a)  In  the  first  place,  it  assumes  an  occult,  an  in- 
comjn'ehensible  principle,  to  enable  us  to  comprehend 
the  effect,  (h)  In  the  second  place,  admitting  the 
agency  of  the  mind  in  accomplishing  the  series  of 
movements  before  the  habit  or  dexterity  is  formed,  it 
afterwards  takes  it  cut  of  the  hands  of  the  mind  in 
order  to  bestow  it  on  another  agent.     This  hypothesif 


m 


102 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


b 


'"% 


■% 


thus  violates  the  two  great  laws  of  philosophizing : 

(a)  to  assume  no  occult  princii^lc  without  necessity ; 

(b)  to  assume  no  second  principle  without  necessity. 
2.     The   second  hypothesis,   which   Mr.    Stewart 

adopts,   is  at  once   complex  and  contradictory.      It 
supposes  a  consciousness  and  no  memory.     Now, 

(a)  This  is  altogether  hypothetical.  It  cannot  ad- 
vance a  shadow  of  proof  in  support  of  the  fact  which 
it  assumes,  that  an  act  of  consciousness  does  or  can 
take  place  without  any,  the  least,  continuance  in  mem- 
ory. 

(6)  This  assumption  is  disproved  by  the  whole  anal- 
ogy of  our  intellectual  nature.  It  is  a  law  of  mind, 
that  the  intensit}'  of  the  present  consciousness  detsr- 
mines  the  vivacity  of  the  future  memory.  Memory 
and  consciousness  are  thus  in  the  direct  ratio  of  each 
other.  On  the  one  hand,  looking  from  cause  to  ef- 
fect, —  vivid  consciousness,  long  memory  ;  faint  con- 
sciousness, short  memory ;  no  consciousness,  no 
memory ;  and,  on  the  other,  looking  from  effect  to 
cause, — long  memory,  vivid  consciousness;  short 
memory,  faint  consciousness  ;  no  memory,  no  con- 
sciousness. Thus  the  hypothesis,  which  postulates 
consciousness  without  memory,  violates  the  funda- 
mental laws  of  our  inlcllecLual  being. 

(c)  This  hypothesis  is  at  once  illegitimate  and  su- 
perjiuous.  As  we  must  admit,  from  the  analogy  of 
l)erception,  that  efficient  modifications  may  exist  with- 
out any  consciousness  of  their  existence,  and  as  this 
admission  affords  a  solution  of  the  present  problem, 
the  hypothesis  in  question  here  again  violates  the 
law  of  parcimojiy  by  assuming,  without  necessity,  a 


,v;;;  u'iluam  hamilton^s  rniLoaopny. 


103 


;Ct   to 

short 
con- 
sulates 
■unda- 

hd  8U- 

Avith- 

|as  this 

)blem, 

iS   the 

Isity,  a 


phinility  of  prinerplcs  to  account  for  what  one  more 
easily  suffices  to  explain. 

3.    The  third  hypothesis,  then,  —  that  which  em- 
ploys the  single  principle  of  latent  agencies  to  account 


•lass  of  mental 


—  h 


lor  so  numerous  a  class  ot  menial  i>nenom( 
does  it  explain  the  phenomenon  under  consideration  ? 
Nothing  can  be  more  simple  and  analogical  than  its 
solution.  As,  — to  take  an  example  from  vision,  —  in 
the  external  perception  of  a  stationary  object,  a  cer- 
tain space,  an  expanse  of  surface,  is  necessary  to  the 
minimum  visihile;  in  other  words,  an  object  of  sight 
cannot  come  into  consciousness  unless  it  be  of  a  cer- 
tain size  ;  in  like  manner,  in  the  interntil  perception 
of  a  series  of  mental  operations,  a  certain  time,  a  cer- 
tain duration,  is  necessary  for  the  smallest  section  of 
continuous  energy  to  which  consciousness  is  compe- 
tent. Some  minimum  of  time  must  be  admitted  as 
the  condition  of  consciousness,  and  as  time  is  divisible 
ad  infinitum^  whatever  minimum  be  taken,  there  must 
be  admitted  to  be,  beyond  the  cognizance  of  con- 
sciousness, intervals  of  time,  in  which,  if  mental  agen- 
cies be  performed,  these  will  bo  latent  to  conscious- 
ness. If  we  suppose  that  the  minimum  of  time,  to 
which  consciousness  can  descend,  l)e  an  interval  called 
six,  and  that  six  dilfercnt  movements  be  performed  in 
this  interval,  these,  it  is  evident,  will  appear  to  loi\- 
sciousness  as  a  simple,  indivisible  point  of  modilied 
time ;  precisely  as  the  minimum  visihile  appears  as 
an  indivisible  point  of  modified  space.  And,  as  in 
the  extended  parts  of  the  minimum  visihile,  each  must 
determine  a  certain  modification  on  the  percipient  sub- 
ject, seeing  that  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  only  the 


104 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


conjoined  effect  of  its  parts,  in  like  manner,  the  pro- 
tended parts  of  each  conscious  instant,  —  of  each  dis- 
thiguishable  minimum  of  time,  —  though  themselves 
beyond  the  ken  of  consciousness,  must  contribute  to 
give  the  character  to  the  whole  mental  state  which 
that  instant,  that  minimum,  comprises.  This  being 
understood,  it  is  easy  to  sec  hoAv  wc  lose  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  several  acts,  in  the  rapid  succession 
of  many  of  our  habits  and  dexterities.  At  first, 
and  before  the  habit  is  acquired,  every  act  is  slow, 
and  we  are  conscious  of  the  effort  of  dcliI)eration, 
choice,  and  volition  ;  by  degrees,  the  mind  proceeds 
with  less  vacillation  and  uncertainty ;  at  length,  the 
acts  l)ecome  secure  and  precise  :  in  proportion  as  this 
takes  place,  the  velocity  of  the  procedure  is  increased, 
and  as  this  acceleration  rises,  the  individual  acts  drop 
one  by  one  from  consciousness,  as  Ave  lose  the  leaves 
in  retiring  further  and  farther  from  the  tree  ;  and,  at 
last,  wc  arc  only  aware  of  the  general  state  which  re- 
sults from  these  unconscious  operations,  as  wc  can  at 
last  only  perceive  the  greenness  which  results  from 
the  unpcrccived  leaves.  {Led.  on  Mefaph.,  XVIII. 
and  XIX.) 

§  2.    EXPLANATION  OF  llETENTION. 


But  if  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  knowledsfe  we 
have  acquired  by  Perception  and  Belf-consciousness 
does  actually  continue,  though  out  of  consciousness, 
to  endure,  can  we,  in  the  second  place,  find  any 
ground  on  whicli  to  explain  the  possibility  of  tliis  en- 
durance?   I  think  we  caii,  and  shall  adduce  such  an 


• 


SIR    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  miLOSOPnY. 


105 


Irre  "sve 
lisncss 
Isucss, 
la   any 
liis  cu- 
licli  ail 


I 


' 


explanation,  founded  on  the  general  analogies  of  our 
mental  nature.  The  phenomenon  of  retention  is  in- 
deed so  natural  on  the  ground  of  the  self-energy  of 
mind,  that  we  have  no  need  to  suppose  any  special 
faculty  for  memory ;  the  conservation  of  tlie  action 
of  the  mind  being  involved  in  the  very  conception  of 
its  power  of  self-activity. 

Let  us  consider  how  knowledge  is  acquired  by  the 
mind.  Knowledge  is  not  acquired  by  ti  mere  passive 
affection,  but  through  the  exertion  of  spontaneous  ac- 
tivity on  the  part  of  the  knowing  subject ;  for  though 
this  activity  be  not  exerted  without  some  external  ox- 
citation,  still  this  excitation  is  onlv  the  occasion  on 
which  the  mind  develops  its  self-energy.  But  this 
energy  being  once  determined,  it  is  natural  that  it 
should  persist,  until  again  annihilated  by  other  causes. 
This  M'ould,  in  fact,  be  the  case,  were  the  mind 
merely  passive  in  the  impression  it  receives  ;  for  it  is 
a  universal  law  of  nature,  that  every  effect  endures  as 
long  as  it  is  not  modified  or  opposed  by  any  other  ef- 
fect. But  the  mental  activity,  the  act  of  knowledge, 
of  which  I  now  speak,  is  more  than  this ;  it  is  an 
energy  of  the  self-active  poAver  of  a  subject  one  and 
indivisible  j  consequently,  a  part  of  tlie  Ego  must  be 
detached  or  annihilated,  if  a  cognition  once  existent 
be  again  extinguished.  Hence  it  is,  that  (he  prohlem 
most  difficult  of  solution  is  not,  hoiv  a  mental  activity 
endures,  hut  hoio  it  ever  vanishes. 

The  solution  of  this  problem  is  to  be  sought  for  in 
the  theoiy  of  obscure  or  latent  modifications  of  mind. 
The  disappearance  of  internal  energies  from  the  view 
of  internal  perception  does  not  warrant  the  conclusion 


% 


"T- 


I 


f  . 


m 


106 


AX   OUTLINE    OF 


tliiit  tlioy  no  longer  exist.  Every  mental  activity  be- 
longs to  the  one  vital  activity  of  mind  in  genenil ;  it 
is,  therefore,  indivisibly  bound  up  with  it,  and  can 
neither  be  torn  from,  nor  abolished  in,  it.  But  the 
mind  is  only  capable,  at  any  one  moment,  of  exerting 
a  certain  quantity  or  degree  of  force.  Tliis  quantity 
must,  therefore,  be  divided  among  the  different  activ- 
ities, so  that  each  has  only  a  part ;  and  the  sum  of 
force  belonging  to  all  the  several  activities  taken  to- 
gether is  equal  to  the  quantity  or  degree  of  force  be- 
longing to  the  vital  activity  of  mind  in  general.  Thus, 
in  proportion  to  the  greater  number  of  activities  in 
the  mind,  the  less  will  be  the  proportion  of  force 
which  will  accrue  to  each ;  the  feebler,  therefore, 
each  \A\\  be,  and  the  fainter  the  vivacity  with  which 
it  can  affect  self-consciousness.  This  weakening  of 
vivacity  can,  in  consccpience  of  the  indefinite  increase 
in  the  number  of  our  mental  activities,  caused  ])y  the 
ceaseless  excitation  of  the  mind  to  new  knowledge,  be 
carried  to  an  indefinite  tenuity,  without  the  activities, 
therefore,  ceasing  altogether  to  be.  Thus  it  is  quite 
natural  that  the  great  proportion  of  our  mental  cog- 
nitions should  have  waxed  too  feeble  to  affect  our  in- 
ternal perception  with  the  competent  intensity ;  it  is 
quite  natural  that  they  should  have  become  o1)Scurc 
or  delitescent.  In  these  circumstances,  it  is  to  bo 
supposed,  that  every  new  cognition,  every  newly  ex- 
cited activity,  should  be  in  the  greatest  vivacity,  and 
should  draw  to  itself  the  greatest  amount  of  force  ; 
this  force  will,  in  the  same  proportion,  be  witlidrawu 
from  the  other  earlier  cognitions  ;   and  it  is  they,  con- 


L'CUSC 

the 

>-e,  be 

'itics, 

quite 

cog- 
uv  iu- 

itis 

)SClll'C 

to  ho 
ly  ex- 
y,  tiiul 
brcc  ; 
idniwn 
,  con- 


Srn    MlLLTAyT   nAMILTOS^S   rniLOSOPHY. 


107 


seqncntly,  which  must  undergo  the  fate  of  obscura- 
tion. 

In  further  explanation  of  this  faculty  I  would  annex 
two  observations  which  arise  out  of  the  prcccdiug  the- 
ory. 

1.  The  first  is,  that  retention  does  not  belong  alone  • 
to  the  coixnitive  faculties,  but  that  the  same  law  ex- 
tends  in  like  manner  over  all  the  three  primary  classes 
of  mental  phenomena.  It  is  not  cognitions  only,  but 
feelings  and  conations,  which  are  held  fast,  and  which 
can,  therefore,  be  again  awakened.  This  fact,  of  the 
conservation  of  our  practical  modifications,  is  not  in- 
deed denied ;  but  psychologists  usually  so  represent 
the  matter,  as  if,  when  feelings  or  conations  are  re- 
tained in  the  mind,  that  this  takes  place  only  through 
the  medium  of  the  memory  ;  meaning  by  this,  that 
we  must,  first  of  all,  have  had  notions  of  these  afiec- 
tious,  which  notions  being  preserved,  they,  when 
recalled  to  mind,  do  again  aw^aken  the  modification 
they  represent.  From  the  theory  I  have  detailed  to 
you,  it  must  be  seen  that  there  is  no  need  of  tliis  in- 
termediation of  notions,  but  that  we  immediately  re- 
tain feelings,  volitions,  and  desires,  no  less  than 
notions  and  cognitions ;  inasmuch  as  all  the  three 
classes  of  fundamental  phenomena  arise  equally  out 
of  the  vital  manifestations  of  the  same  one  and  indi- 
visible subject. 

2.  The  second  result  of  this  theory  is,  that  the  va- 
rious attempts  to  explain  memory  l)y  physiological 
hypotheses  are  as  unnecessar}'  as  they  are  untenable. 
This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  general  problem 
touching  the  relation  of  mind  and  body.     But  in  prox- 


108 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


h 


imatc  refei'cncG  to  memory,  it  may  be  satisfactory  to 
show,  that  this  faculty  docs  not  stand  in  need  of  such 
crude  modes  of  explanation.  It  must  he  allowed,  that 
no  faculty  affords  a  more  tempting  subject  for  mate- 
rialistic conjecture.  No  other  mental  power  betrays 
a  greater  dependence  on  corporeal  conditions  than 
memory.  Not  only,  in  general,  does  its  vigorous  or 
feeble  activity  essentially  depend  on  the  health  and 
indisposition  of  the  body,  more  especially  of  tlu;  ner- 
vous systems ;  but  there  is  manifested  a  connection 
between  certain  functions  of  memory  and  certain  parts 
of  the  cerebral  apparatus.  This  connection,  however, 
is  such  as  alSbrds  no  countenance  to  any  particular 
hypotheses  at  present  in  vogue.  For  example,  after 
certain  diseases,  or  certain  affections  of  the  brain, 
some  partial  loss  of  rnoiiiory  takes  place.  Perhaps 
the  patient  loses  the  whole  of  his  stock  of  knowledge 
previous  to  the  disease,  tlie  faculty  of  acquiring  and 
retaining  new  information  remaining  entire.  Perhaps 
he  loses  the  memory  of  words,  and  preserves  that  of 
things.  Perhaps  he  may  retain  the  memory  of  nouns, 
and  lose  that  of  ver))s,  or  vice  versa;  nay,  Avhat  is 
still  more  marvellous,  though  it  is  not  a  very  uufre- 
quent  occurrence,  one  language  may  be  taken  neatly 
out  of  his  retention,  without  affecting  his  memory  of 
others.  By  such  observations,  the  older  psycholo- 
gists were  led  to  the  various  physiological  hypotheses 
by  which  they  hoped  to  account  for  the  phenomena 
of  retention,  — as,  for  example,  the  hypothesis  of  per- 
manent material  impressions  on  the  brain,  —  or  of 
permanent  dispositions  in  the  nervous  fil)res  to  repeat 
the  same  oscillatory  movements,  —  of  particular  or- 


* 


I 

f 


Srn   WILLIAM  HAMILTOX'S  miLosopnr. 


109 


guns  for  the  different  functions  of  memory,  —  of  par- 
ticular parts  of  the  brain  as  the  repositories  of  tlio 
various   classes   of  ideas,— or  even  of  a  particular 
fibre  as  the  instrument  of  every  several  notion.     But 
all  these  hypotheses  betray  only  an  ignorance  of  the 
proper  object  of  philosophy,  and  of  the  true  natm-e  of 
the  thinking  principle.     They  are  at  best  l)ut  useless  ; 
for  if  the  unity  and  self-activity  of  mind  be  not  denied, 
it  is  manifest,  that  the  mental  activities,  which  have 
been  once  determined,  must  persist,  and  these  corpo- 
real explanations  are  superfluous.    (Lect.  on  Metanh.. 
XXX.)  ^     ' 


H  ' 


0 
I 


wm 


PHENOMENOLOGY   OF  THE   COGNITIONS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


i;  tl^ 


ii       1 


THE   REPRODUCTIVE   FACULTY. 

I  NOW  pass  to  the  next  fiicuUy  in  order,  —  the  fac- 
ulty which  I  have  called  the  Reproductive.  I  am  not 
satisfied  with  this  name  ;  for  it  does  not  precisely,  of 
itself,  mark  what  I  wish  to  be  expressed,  —  namely, 
the  process 'bv  which  what  is  Ivini?  dormant  in,  mem- 
ory  is  awakened,  as  contradistinguished  from  the  rep- 
resentation in  consciousness  of  it  as  awakened. 

Perhaps  the  Resuscitative  Faculty  wonld  have  been 
better ;  and  the  term  lieprodudlon  might  have  been 
employed  to  comprehend  the  whole  process,  made  up 
of  the  correlative  acts  of  Retention,  Rcsnscitation,  and 
Representation.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  I  shall 
at  present  continue  to  emplo}'  the  term  in  the  limited 
meaning  I  have  alreadv  assigned. 

Every  one  is  conscious  of  a  ceaseless  snccession  or 
train  of  thoughts,  one  thouirht  suuircsting  another, 
which  again  is  the  cause  of  exciting  a  third,  and  so  on. 
Bnt  if  thoughts  and  feelings  and  conations  (for  you 
must  observe,  that  the  train  is  not  limited  to  the  phe- 

110 


yl.V    OUTLISE   OF  nAMlLTOX  S   PfllLOSOP/IY. 


Ill 


uoiiiena  of  cognition  only)  do  notarise  of  themselves, 
but  only  in  causal  connection  with  preceding  and  siilj- 
scqueut  moditications  of  mind,  it  remains  to  be  asked 
and  answered,  —  Do  the  links  of  this  chain  follow 
each  other  under  any  other  condition  tlian  that  of  sim- 
ple connection?  —  in  other  words,  inctf/  any  thoufin\ 
fedinffy  w  desire  he  connecled  with  any  other?  Or  .'.>• 
the  succession  regulated  by  other  and  special  law.",  ac- 
cording to  which  certain  kinds  of  modilication  exclu- 
sively precede,  and  exclusively  follow,  each  other? 
The  slightest  observation  of  the  phenomenon  shows 
that  the  latter  alternative  is  the  case  ;  and  on  this  all 
philosophers  are  agreed.  Nor  do  philosophers  diller 
in  ro<rard  to  what  kind  of  thous'hts  are  associated  to- 
gether.  They  diftcr  almost  exclusively  in  regard  to 
the  subordinate  question,  of  how  these  thoughts  ought 
to  1>e  classitied,  and  carried  up  into  system.  This, 
therefore,  is  the  question  to  which  I  shall  address 
myself.     (Lect.  on  3fetaj)h.,XX^X^l.) 

The  relations,  on  the  ground  of  which  one  thouirht 
suggests  another,  give  us  what  may  be  called  the 
jyrimary  laws  of  liejii'oduction;  ])ut  when  several 
thoughts  are  all  capable  of  being  suggested  by  another, 
as  all  equally  related  by  the  primary  laws,  what  de- 
termines which  of  these  thoughts  shall  actually  be 
suggested?  The  principles  that  determine  this  may 
l>e  named  secondary  laics  of  P  jwod action.^ 


m 


'  In  this  paragraph  I  have  atteniptcd  an  explicit  definition  of  the 
distinction,  as  drawn  by  Hamilton,  between  tlie  primary  and  tlie  sec- 
ondaiy  law,  of  reproduction.  —  J.  C.  M. 


112 


AX  OUTLINE   OF 


§  1.  riuMAiiY  LAirs  OF  jiEPrionrrrinx. 

Tlicro  nro  tliroo  subjective  unities^  ivholes,  or  identi- 
tie8,  each  of  whlcli  aftbrds  a  grouiul  of  chronological 
succession,  and  reciprocal  suggestion,  to  tlie  several 
thoughts  which  they  comprehend  in  one.  In  other 
words.  Reproduction  has  three  sources.  These  arc 
(1.)  The  unily  of  thoughts,  differing  in  time  and  mod- 
ification, in  a  co-identity  of  Suij.tkct  ;  (2.)  Tlie  unity 
of  thoughts,  differing  in  time,  in  a  co-identily  of  ^NIou- 
ification;  (3.)  The  unity  of  thoughts,  dillcring  in 
modijication,  in  a  co-identity  of  Time.  The  three 
unities  thus  characterized  constitute  three 

(A)    Geneual  Laavs  of  llEriiODur/noN. 

I.  Law  of  Possible  Repuoduction.  Of  these 
unities  the^r.s'^  affords  a  common  principle  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  association,  or  mutual  suggestion  for  all  our 
mental  movements,  however  different  in  their  charac- 
ter as  moditications,  however  remote  in  the  times  of 
their  occurrence  ;  for  all,  even  the  most  heterogene- 
ous aiul  most  distant,  are  reproducible,  co-suggestihJe, 
or  associable,  as,  and  only  as,  phenomena  of  the  same 
unity  of  consciousness, — affections  of  the  same  indi- 
visible Ego.  There  thus  emerges  the  Law  of  Asso- 
ciABiLiTY  OR  POSSIBLE  Co-SuGGESTiox  :  AU  thoughts 
of  the  same  mental  subject  are  associable,  or  ca])able  of 
suggesting  one  another. 

II.  Laws  of  Actual  Reproduction.  But  the 
unity  of  subject,  the  fundamental  condition  of  the  as- 
sociability  of  thought  in  general,  affords  no  reason 


i 

i 


sin    WILLIAM  IIAMILTOX  S   VIIlLOSol'IIY. 


113 


why  this  partlcuhir  thought  should,  de  facto,  recall  or 
suggest  that.  We  require,  therefor;.',  besides  a  law 
of  possil)le,  a  law  or  laws  of  adnal  Itej^rodudion.  Two 
sueh  are  afforded  in  the  two  other  unities,  —  those  of 
ModifiC(d!on  and  of  Time. 

And  now  let  us,  for  the  sake  of  subsequent  refer- 
ence, pause  a  moment  to  state  the  following  symbolic 
illustration :  — 

ABC 


>le, 

mie 

idi- 

sso- 


Ilere  the  same  letter,  repeated  in  perpendicular  or- 
der, is  intended  to  denote  the  same  mental  mode, 
brought  into  consciousness,  represented,  at  different 
times.  Here  the  different  letters,  in  horizontal  order, 
arc  supposed  to  designate  the  partial  thoughts  inte- 
grant of  a  total  mental  state,  and  therefore  coexistent 
or  immediatcl//  consequent,  at  the  moment  of  its  actual 
realization.     This  being  nnderstood,  we  proceed  :  — 

Of  these  two  unities  that  of  modification  aflbrds  the 
ground,  why,  for  example,  an  object  determining  a 
mental  modification  of  a  certain  coiiiplement  and  char- 
acter to-day,  this  presentation  tends  to  call  up  the 
representation  of  the  same  modification  determined  by 
that  oljject  yesterday.  Or  suppose,  as  in  our  sym- 
bols, the  three  A's  to  typify  the  same  thought,  deter- 
mined at  three  different  times,  be  the  determining 
movement  of  a  presentation  or  a  representation.  On 
the  second  occasion.  A'  will  suggest  the  representation 
of  A.     This  it  will  not  be  denied  that  it  can  do  ;   for, 

8 


''.il 

nil 


114 


Ay  OVTLTXE   OF 


'I' 


on  the  possi1)ility  hereof  clepcnds  tlic  jiossibility  of 
simjylti  rememhrance.  The  total  tlioiight,  aftcf  this 
sn*»gestIoii,  will  be  A'  -j-  A ;  and  on  the  third  occa- 
sion, A"  may  suggest  A'  and  A  ;  Loth  on  this  princi- 
ple, and  on  that  other  which  we  are  innnediatcly  to 
consider,  of  co-identity  in  time.  AVc  have  thus,  as  a 
first  general  law  of  actual  Reproduction,  Suggestion, 
or  Association  :  — 

1.  The  Laav  of  Ivepetition  on  of  DinECT  Ke- 
jiEMBiJANCE  :  TJtougJits,  co-ident'ical  in  modijication, 
hut  differiiKj  i)i  time,  tend  to  suggest  each  other. 

The  unity  of  time  afKnxls  the  ground  why  thoughts, 
dillerent  in  their  character  as  mental  modes,  but  hav- 
ing once  l)een  proximately  coexistent  (including 
under  coexistence  immediate  consecution)  as  the 
parts  of  some  total  thought,  —  and  a  totality  of 
thought  is  determined  even  by  a  unity  of  time,  —  do, 
when  recalled  into  consciousness,  tend  innnediatcly  to 
suaii'cst  each  other,  as  co-constituents  of  that  former 
whole,  and  mediately,  that  whole  itself.  Thus  let 
(A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  F)  be  supposed  a  complement  of 
such  concomitant  thoughts.  If  A  be  recalled  into 
consciousness,  A  will  tend  to  reawaken  B,  B  to  re- 
awaken C,  and  so  on,  until  the  whole  formerly  co- 
existent series  has  been  reinstated,  or  the  mind  di- 
verted by  some  stronger  movement  on  some  other 
train.  AVe  lur^e  thus,  as  a  second  general  law  of  ac- 
tual Reproduction,  Suggestion,  or  Association, — 

2.  The   Law  of  Kedintegkation,   of  Indirect 

EE-AIE^MnKANCE,      OR     OF     REMINISCENCE  :        TliOWjUtS, 

once  co-idcntic(d  in  time,  are,  however  different  as  men- 


sin    WILLIAM  HAMILTON^ S   miLOSOPIIY. 


115 


IS    tlie 
ity   of 
—  do, 
tcly  to 
tbrmcv 
us   let 
cut   of 
a  into 
to  rc- 
rly  co- 
liina  tli- 
c  other 
v  of  uc- 

JDIIIECT 

as  wieH- 


tal  modes,  again  suggestive  of  each  other,  and  that  in 
the  mutual  order  lohich  they  originally  held. 

Philosophers,  in  generalizing  the  phenomena  of  re- 
production, have,  if  the  exception  of  Aristotle  be  ad- 
mitted, of  these  two,  exclusively  regarded  the  law  of 
Redintegration.  That  of  Repetition  Avas,  however, 
equally  worthy  of  their  consideration.  For  the  exci- 
tation of  the  same  by  the  same,  dilicring  in  time,  is 
not  less  marvellous  than  the  excitation  of  the  differ- 
ent by  the  different,  identical  in  time.  It  was  a  prin- 
ciple, too,  equally  indispensable  to  explain  the  phe- 
non)cna.  ior  the  attempts  to  reduce  these  to  the 
law  of  Redintegration  alone  will  not  stand  the  test 
of  criticism ;  since  the  reproduction  of  thought  by 
thought,  as  disjoined  in  time,  cannot  be  referred  to 
the  reproduction  of  thought  b}^  thought,  as  conjoined 
in  time.  Accordingly  vvc  shall  find,  in  coming  to  de- 
tail, that  some  phenomena  arc  saved  by  the  law  of 
Repetition  alone,  while  others  require  a  combination 
of  the  two  laws  of  Repetition  and  Redintegration. 
Such  combinations  of  these  tAvo  laws  constitute  the 

(B)  Special  Laws  of  Repkoduction.  The  laws 
under  this  head  arc, — 

I.  The  Law  of  Similars:  Things, — thow/hls, 
resembling  each  other  (he  the  resemblance  simjyle  or  an- 
alogical), are  mutualhj  si'gges/ive. 

From  Aristotle  downwards,  all  who  have  written 
on  Suggestion,  whether  intentional  or  spontaneous, 
have  recognized  the  association  of  similar  objects. 
But  whilst  all  have  thus  fairly  acknowledged  the  ef- 
fect, none,  I  think  (if  Aristotle  be  not  a  singular 
exception) ,  have  speculated  aright  as  to  the  cause. 


i^ 


IIG 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


\   \\ 


111  general,  Similarity  has  been  lightly  assumed, 
lightly  laid  down,  as  one  of  the  ultimate  principles  of 
associations.  Nothing,  however,  can  be  clearer  than 
that  resembling  objects,  —  resembling  mental  moditi- 
cations,  —  being,  to  us,  in  their  resembling  points, 
identical,  they  must,  on  the  principle  of  Repetition,  call 
up  each  other.  This,  of  course,  refers  principally  to 
suggestion/or  the  first  time.  Subsequently,  Redinte- 
gration co-oporatcs  with  Repetition ;  for  noiv  the  re- 
sembling parts  have  formed  io^Qiliav  parts  of  the  same 
mental  whole,  and  are^  moreover,  associated  both  as 
similar  and  as  contrasted. 

II.  The  Law  of  Contrast:  Things,  —  thoughts, 
contrasted  loith  each  other  {he  the  contrast  one  of  con- 
trariety or  of  contradiction^ ,  are  mutually  suggestive. 

1 .  All  contrast  is  of  things  contained  under  a  com- 
mon notion.  Qualities  are  contrasted  only  as  they 
are  similar.  A  good  horse  and  a  bad  syllogism  have 
no  contrast.  Virtue  and  vice  agree  as  moral  attri- 
butes ;  great  and  little  agree  as  quantities,  and  as  ex- 
traordinary deflections  from  ordinary  quantity.  Even 
existence  and  non-existence  are  not  opposed  as  difier- 
ent  genera,  but  only  as  species  of  existence,  —  posi- 
tive existence  and  negative  oistence.  Conspecies 
thus  (as  wolf  and  dog)  may  be  associated  either  as 
similars  or  as  contraries,  —  similars  as  opposed  to  ani- 
mals of  other  genera,  —  contraries  as  opposed  to  each 
other.  Contraries  are  thus  united  under  a  higher  no- 
tion. 

2.  Aflirmation  of  any  quality  involves  the  negation 
of  its  contradictory,  —  the  affirmation  of  goodness  is 
virtually  the  negation  of  badness ;   and  many  terms 


sin    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PniLOSOPHT. 


117 


for  the  contradictory  qualities  are  only  negations  and 
affirmations,  — just,  unjust,  —  finite,  infinite,  —  par- 
tial, impartial.  Hence  logical  contradictory  opposi- 
tion is  even  a  stronger  association  than  logical  con- 
trariety, because  only  between  two. 

3.  Contrast  is  a  relation,  — the  knowledge  of  con- 
traries is  one. 

4.  Consciousness  is  only  of  the  distinguishable  ; 
and  therefore  contrast  most  clearly  distinguished  must 
heighten  consciousness. 

III.  The  Law  of  Co-adjaceno¥  :  Things,  — 
thoughts,  related  to  each  other  as  Cause  and  Effect, 
Whole  and  Parts,  Suhstayice  and  Attribute,  Sign  and 
/Signified,  are  mutually  suggestive. 


§  2.    SECONDARY  LAWS   OF  REPRODUCTION. 

In  obedience  to  the  primary  laws,  movements  sug- 
gest and  are  suggested  in  proportion  to  the  strictness 
of  the  dependency  between  that  prior  and  this  poste- 
rior. But  such  general  relation  between  two  thoughts 
—  and  on  which  are  founded  the  two  Abstract  or 
Primary  laws  of  Repetition  and  Redintegration  —  is 
frequently  crossed,  is  frequently  superseded,  by  an- 
other, and  that  a  particular  relation,  which  determines 
the  suggestion  of  a  movement  not  warranted  by  any 
dependence  on  its  antecedent.  To  complete  the  laws 
of  reproduction  wc  must  therefore  recognize,  as  a 
Secondary  or  Concrete  principle,  what  may  be  st}  led 
(under  protest,  for  it  is  hardly  deserving  of  the  title 
Law),  The  Law  of  Preference:  Thoughts  are 
suggested,  not  merely  by  force  of  the  general  subjective 


ii 


118 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


\\       ! 


relation  subsisting  between  themselves;  they  are  also 
suggested  injiroportion  to  the  relation  of  interest  (from 
whatever  source)  in  which  these  stand  to  the  individual 
mind. 

This  general  law  of  Preference  yields,  as  its  modes, 
the  special  secondary  laws ;  for,  under  the  laws  of 
possibility,  one  thought  being  associated  with  a  phiral- 
ity,  and  each  of  that  plurality  being  therefore  suggest- 
ible, it  suggests  one  in  preference  to  another  according 
to  two  laws:  (1.)  By  relation  to  itself,  the  thought 
most  strictly  associated  with  itself;  (2.)  liy  relation 
to  mind,  the  thought  most  easily  suggestible.  That 
there  must  bo  two  laws,  is  shown,  because  two  associ- 
ated thoughts  do  not  suggest  each  other  with  equal 
force.  B  may  be  very  strongly  associated  with  A, 
but  A  very  slightly  associated  with  B.  This  is  two- 
fold ;   (1.)  in  order  of  time,  (2.)  in  order  of  interest. 

(A)  Under  the  Jirst  head,  that  of  suggestion  by  re- 
lation to  the  thought  suggesting,  may  be  stated  the  fol- 
lowing special  laws  :  — 

I.  The  Law  of  Imjiediacy  :  Of  tivo  thoughts,  if 
the  one  be  inwiediately,  the  other  mediately,  connected 
with  a  third,  the  first  ivill  be  suggested  by  the  third  in 
preference  to  the  second. 

II.  The  Law  of  Homogeneity  :  A  thought  will 
suggest  another  of  the  same  order  in  preference  to  one 
of  a  different  order. 

Thus  a  smell  will  sucfcrest  a  smell,  a  sisfht  a  si^jht, 
an  imagination  an  imagination,  in  preference  to  a 
thouii'ht  of  a  different  class. 

(B)  Under  the  second  head,  that  of  suggestion  by 
relation  to  the  mind,  may  be  stated,  as  a  special  law, 


sin    WILLIAM  n.lMlLTOX's   I'lULOSOPIIY. 


119 


The  Law  of  Facility  :  A  thought  easier  to  suggest 
will  be  roused  in  preference  to  a  more  difficult  one.  The 
easier  are 

I.  Those  more  clearly,  stronghj  impresi^ed  than  the 
reverse.  Such  are  ideas  more  undistractedly,  atten- 
tively received;  in  youth,  in  the  morning;  assisted 
by  novelty,  wonder,  passion,  etc.  Hence,  also,  sights 
are  more  casil}'  suggested  than  smells,  imaginations 
than  thoughts,  etc. 

II.  Those  more  recent,  than  older  (cceteris  par- 
ibus). 

III.  Those  wzore  frequently  rejyeated  frceleris  par- 
ibus) . 

lY.  Those  which  stand  more  isolated  from  foreign 
and  thwarting  thoughts. 

y.  Those  which  are  more  connected  with  homoge- 
neous and  assisting  thoughts. 

VI.  Those  more  interesting  to  (1.)  natural  cogni- 
tive powers,  talents  ;  (2.)  acquired  luibits  of  cognition, 
studies  ;    (3.)  temporary  line  of  occupation. 

VII.  Those  more  in  harmony  with  afFective  dispo- 
sitions, (1.)  natural,  (2.)  habitual,  (3.)  temporary.^ 
(lieid's  Works,  Note  D***.) 


'  It  is  duo  to  Sir  William  Hamilton  to  boar  in  mind,  tliat  his  the- 
ory of  the  laws  of  reproduction  seems  never  to  have  been  vorked 
into  a  form  perfectly  satisfactory  to  himself.  Nearly  all  that  relates 
to  tlic  secondary  laws,  as  well  as  to  the  special  primary  laws,  is  left 
in  an  unfinished  state.  The  exposition  in  reference  to  these  points, 
which  I  have  given,  is  taken,  with  a  few  alterations  and  additions  of 
expression,  from  the  fragments  obtained  by  Mr.  Mansel  among  Sir 
William's  papers.  —  J.  C.  M. 


4 


!    .HI 

.  HiiY 


J  1 


:M 


1. 


120 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


§  3.    DISTINCTION  OF  SUOGESTION  AND   liEMINISCENCE. 


I;; 


The  faculty  of  llcprocluctiou  may  be  considered  as 
operating  either  spontaneously,  witiiout  any  interfer- 
ence of  the  will,  or  as  modified  in  its  action  l>y  the  in- 
tervention of  volition.  In  the  one  case,  as  in  the 
other,  the  Reproductive  Faculty  acts  in  subservience 
to  its  own  laws.  In  the  former  case,  one  thought  is 
allowed  to  suggest  another,  according  to  the  greater 
general  connection  subsisthig  between  them;  in  the 
latter,  the  act  of  volition,  by  concentrating  attention 
upon  a  certain  determinate  class  of  associating  circum- 
stances, bestows  on  these  circumstances  an  extraordi- 
nary vivacity,  and,  consequently,  enables  them  to  ob- 
tain the  preponderance,  and  exclusively  to  determine 
the  succession  of  the  intellectual  train.  The  former 
of  these  cases,  where  the  Reproductive  Faculty  is  left 
wholl}'  to  itself,  may  not  improperly  l)e  called  Spon- 
taneous Suggestion,  or  Suggestion  simply  ;  the  latter 
ought  to  obtain  the  name  of  Reminiscence  or  Recol- 
lection. 

To  form  a  correct  notion  of  the  phenomena  of  Rem- 
iniscence, it  is  requisite  that  we  consider  under  what 
conditions  it  is  determined  to  exertion.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  to  be  noted  that,  at  every  crisis  of  our  ex- 
istence, momentary  circumstances  are  the  causes  which 
awaken  our  activity,  and  set  our  recollection  at  work 
to  ^  '.;;•,'  the  necessaries  of  thought.  In  the  second 
;■  If  e,,  !  's  as  constituting  a  want  (and  by  icant,  I 
Ui-  r  i  r.c  ji'sult  either  of  an  act  of  desire  or  of  voli- 
tio '^^    n;:     die  determining  circumstance  tends  prin- 


SIR    mZLIAM  nAMILTOX  S   P/IILOSOPnY. 


121 


cipally  to  awaken  the  thoughts  with  which  it  is  asso- 
ciated. This  being  the  case,  we  should  expect  tliat 
eacli  circumstance  which  constitutes  a  want  should 
suggest,  likewise,  tlic  notion  of  an  object,  or  ol)jects, 
proper  to  satisfy  it ;  and  this  is  Avliat  actually  hap- 
pens. It  is,  however,  further  to  bo  observed,  that  it 
.  is  not  enough  that  the  want  suggests  the  idea  of  the 
object;  for  if  that  idea  were  alone,  it  would  remain 
without  effect,  since  it  could  not  guide  me  in  the  pro- 
cedure I  should  follow.  It  is  necessary,  at  the  same 
time,  that  to  the  idea  of  this  object  there  should  be 
associated  the  notion  of  the  relation  of  this  object  to 
the  want,  of  the  place  where  I  may  find  it,  of  the 
means  by  which  I  may  procure  it,  and  turn  it  to  ac- 
count, etc.  For  instance,  I  wisli  to  make  a  quota- 
tion :  this  want  jiwakens  in  me  the  idea  of  the  author 
in  whom  the  passage  is  to  be  found,  Avliich  I  am  de- 
sirous of  citing ;  but  this  idea  would  be  fruitless,  un- 
less there  were  conjoined,  at  the  same  time,  the 
representation  of  the  volume,  of  the  place  where  I 
may  obtain  it,  of  the  means  1  nnist  employ,  etc. 

Hence  I  infer,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  want  does 
not  awaken  an  idea  of  its  object  alone,  but  that  it 
awakens  it  accompanied  Avith  a  number,  more  or  less 
considerable,  of  accessory  notions,  which  f(jrm,  as  it 
were,  its  train  or  attendance.  This  train  maj'  vary 
accord ini"'  to  the  nature  of  the  Avant  which  suiri!:ests 
the  notion  of  an  ol)ject ;  but  the  train  can  never  fall 
wholly  off,  and  it  becomes  more  indissolubly  attached 
to  the  object,  in  proportion  as  it  has  been  more  fre- 
quently called  up  in  attendance. 

I  infer,  in  the  second  place,  that  this  accompani- 


i  i 


ii 


1$ 


m 

':-"H 


122 


AN  OUTLIKE   OF 


niont  of  accessory  notions,  simultaneously  suggested 
with  the  principal  idea,  is  far  from  being  as  vividly 
and  distinctly  represented  in  consciousness  as  that 
idea  itself;  and  when  these  accessories  have  once 
been  completely  blended  with  the  habits  of  the  mind, 
and  its  reproductive  agency,  they  at  length  finally  dis- 
appear, becoming  fused,  as  it  were,  in  the  conscious- ' 
ness  of  the  idea  to  which  the}'  are  attached. 

Thus,  if  we  appreciate  correctly  the  plienomena  of 
Reproduction  or  Reminiscence,  Ave  shall  recognize,  as 
an  incontestable  fact,  that  our  thoujrhts  suac'cst  each 
other,  not  one  by  one  successively,  as  the  order  to 
which  language  is  astricted  might  lead  us  to  infer ; 
but  that  the  complement  of  circumstances,  under  which 
we  at  every  moment  exist,  awakens  simultaneously 
a  great  number  of  thoughts ;  these  it  calls  into  the 
presence  of  the  mind,  either  to  place  them  at  our  dis- 
posal, if  we  find  it  requisite  to  employ  them,  or  to 
make  them  co-operate  in  our  deliberations,  by  giving 
them,  according  to  their  nature  and  our  htil)its,  an 
influence,  more  or  less  active,  on  our  judgments  and 
consequent  acts. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed,  that,  in  this  great  crowd 
of  thoughts  always  present  to  the  mind,  there  is  only 
a  small  number  of  which  we  are  distinctly  conscious ; 
and  that,  in  this  small  numl)er,  we  ought  to  distinguish 
those  which,  being  clothed  in  language  oral  or  men- 
tal, become  the  objects  of  a  more  fixed  attention; 
those  Avhich  hold  a  closer  relation  to  circumstances 
more  impressive  than  others  ;  or  which  receive  a  pre- 
dominant character  by  the  more  vigorous  attention  we 
bestow  on  them.     As  to  the  others,  although  not  the 


sin  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  rniLosopuY. 


123 


objects  of  clear  consciousness,  they  arc  nevertheless 
present  to  the  mind,  there  to  perform  a  very  impor- 
tant part  as  motive  principles  of  determination  ;  and 
the  influence  which  they  exert  in  this  capacity  is  even 
the  more  powerful  in  proportion  as  it  is  less  apparent, 
being  more  disguised  by  habit.  (Led.  on  Metanh' 
XXXII.)  ^ 


.if 

11 

\  "> 

1  f 

r.   i 

1 

1 

«F 

11 

1 

'; 

;l 

PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  COGNITIONS. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


THE    REPRESENTATIVE    FACULTY. 


■!l    S 


I'' 


By  the  faculty  of  Representation,  as  I  formerly  men- 
tioned, I  mean  strictly  the  power  the  mind  has  of 
holding  up  vividly  before  itself  the  thoughts  Avhich, 
by  the  act  of  Reproduction,  it  has  recalled  into  con- 
sciousness. Though  the  processes  of  Representation 
and  Reproduction  cannot  exist  independently  of  each 
other,  they  are  nevertheless  not  more  to  be  confounded 
into  one  than  those  of  Reproduction  and  Conservation. 
They  are,  indeed,  discriminated  by  differences  suffi- 
ciently decisive.  Reproduction,  as  we  have  seen,  op- 
crates,  in  part  at  least,  out  of  consciousness.  Repre- 
sentation, on  the  contrary,  is  only  realized  as  it  is 
realized  in  consciousness  ;  the  degree  or  vivacity  of 
the  Representation  being  always  in  proportion  to  the 
degree  or  vivacity  of  our  consciousness  of  its  reality. 
Nor  are  the  energies  of  Representation  and  Reproduction 
always  exerted  by  the  same  individual  in  equal  inten- 
sity, any  more  than  the  energies  of  Reproduction  and 
Retention.    Some  minds  are  distinguished  for  a  higher 

124 


Ay  OVTLISE   OF  HAMILTOS  S   rniLOSOPHY. 


123 


power  of  manifesting  one  of  these  phenomena  ;  others, 
for  manifesting  another ;  antl  as  it  is  not  always  tlie 
l>er.sou  who  forgets  notliing.Avho  can  most  promptly 
recall  what  he  retains,  so  neither  is  it  always  the  per- 
son who  recollects  most  easily  antl  correctly  who  can 
exhibit  what  he  remembers  in  the  most  vivid  colors. 
It  is  to  be  recollected,  however,  that  Retention,  JJe- 
production,  and  Representation,  though  not  in  diller- 
cnt  persons  of  the  same  relative  vigor,  arc,  however, 
in  the  same  individuals,  all  strong  or  weak  in  refer- 
ence to  the  same  classes  of  objects.  For  example,  if 
a  man's  memory  be  more  peculiarly  retentive  of  words, 
his  verbal  reminiscence  and  imagination  will,  in  like 
manner,  be  more  particularly  energetic. 

lu  common  language,  it  is  not  of  course  to  be  ex- 
pected that  there  should  be  found  terms  to  express 
the  result  of  an  analysis  Avhich  had  not  even  been  per- 
formed by  philosophers  ;  and,  accordingly,  the  term 
Imayinaf.ion,  or  Phantasy,  Avhich  denotes  most 
nearly  the  Representative  process,  does  this,  how- 
ever, not  without  an  admixture  of  other  processes, 
which  it  is  of  consequence  for  scientific  precision  that 
■we  should  consider  apart. 

lu  the  view  I  take  of  the  fundamental  processes, 
the  act  of  Representation  is  merely  the  energy  of  the 
mind  in  holding  up  to  its  own  contemplation  what  it 
is  determined  to  represent.  I  distinguish,  as  essen- 
tially different,  the  Representation  and  the  determi- 
nation to  represent.  I  exclude  from  the  Faculty  of 
Representation  all  power  of  preference  among  the  ob- 
jects it  holds  up  to  view.  This  is  the  function  of 
faculties  wholly  different  from  that  of  Representation, 


m 


126 


Ay  OVTUXK   OF 


Avhicli,  tljon^'li  iictivo  in  roi)ros('iitin<j,  is  wliolly  jki.s- 
hIvc  as  to  what  it  roprcsciits.  Wiiat,  then,  it  mny  bo 
Jiskcd,  aro  the  powers  by  whicli  tlio  IvciJi-csoiilativo 
Faculty  is  dotorniiiicd  to  represent,  and  to  represent 
this  particniar  object,  or  this  partienhir  complement 
of  objects,  and  not  any  other?     These  are  two. 

1.  The  ^/fvst  of  these  is  the  Keprodnctive  Faculty. 
This  faculty  is  the  great  inimeditdc  source  from  which 
the  Ivcpresentativc  receives  both  the  materials  and  the 
determination  to  represent ;  and  the  laws  by  Avhich 
the  lleproductivc  Faculty  is  governed  govern  also  the 
Ivcpresentativc.  Accordingly,  if  there  were  no  other 
laAvs  in  the  arrangement  and  combination  of  thought 
than  those  of  association,  the  licprcsentative  Faculty 
would  be  determined  in  its  manifestations,  and  in  the 
character  of  its  manifestations,  by  the  Eoproductivo 
Faculty  alone  ;  and,  on  this  supposition,  Ecpresenta- 
tioii  could  no  more  bo  distinguished  from  Reproduc- 
ticm  than  Reproduction  from  Association. 

2.  But  there  is  another  elementary  process  which 
wo  have  not  yet  considered  :  Comparison,  or  the 
Faculty  of  Relations,  to  which  the  representative  act  is 
likewise  subject,  and  which  plays  a  conspicuous  part 
in  determining  in  what  combinations  ohjccts  Arc  rep- 
resented. By  the  process  of  Comparison,  the  omplex 
objects,  called  up  by  the  Reproductive  F./cdty,  un- 
dergo various  operations.  They  are  separated  into 
parts ;  they  are  analyzed  into  elements ;  and  these 
parts  and  elements  are  again  compounded  in  every 
various  fashion.  In  all  this  the  Representative  Fac- 
ulty co-operates.  It,  tirst  of  all,  exhibits  the  phe- 
nomena so  called  up  by  the  laws  of  ordinary  associa- 


Sni    WILLIAM  nAMIJ.TON  S  J'/lILOSOr/IY. 


127 


ny  1)0 

tiitivo 
resent 
cmout 

iciiUy. 

which 
uul  the 
'  which 
lIso  the 
o  other 
thought 
Fiieiilty 
d  in  the 
)ductivo 
roscnta- 

produc- 

bs  which 
or  the 
ivc  act  is 
,ns  part 
brc  rep- 
|c')mplex 
jdty,  un- 
ited iuto 
id  these 
in  every 
live  Fac- 
:he  phe- 
associa- 


tion.  In  this  it  acts  as  handmaid  to  the  Roproductivo 
Facuhy.  It  then  oxhihits  th(?  phenomena  •[<  variously 
chihoratod  hy  the  analysis  and  syntiiesis  oi  the  Com- 
parative Faculty,  to  which,  in  like  maimer,  it  performs 
the  part  of  a  subsidiary. 

'  Tins  being  understood,  yon  will  easily  perceive 
that  the  Imngination  of  common  language  —  the 
Productive  Imagination  of  philosophers  —  is  nothing 
but  the  Representative  process,  ^;/».s  the  process  to 
which  I  would  give  the  name  of  the  Comparative.  In 
this  componnd  operation,  it  is  true  that  the  Represen- 
tative act  is  the  most  conspicuous,  perhaps  the  most 
essential,  clement.  For,  in  the  Jirst  place,  it  is  a  con- 
dition of  the  possibility  of  the  act  of  comparison,  that 
the  material  on  which  it  operates  (that  is,  the  objects 
reproduced  in  their  natural  comiections)  should  be 
held  up  to  its  observation  in  a  clear  light,  in  order 
that  it  may  take  note  of  their  various  circumstances 
of  relation  ;  and,  in  the  second,  that  the  result  of  its 
own  elaboration,  that  is,  the  new  arrangements  which 
it  proposes,  should  be  realized  in  a  vivid  act  of  Rep- 
resentation. Thus  it  is,  that,  in  the  view  both  of 
the  vulgar  and  of  philosophers,  the  more  obtrusive, 
though  really  the  more  snbordinate,  element  in  this 
componnd  process  has  been  elevated  into  the  princi- 
pal constituent ;  whereas,  the  act  of  Comparison  — 
Iho  act  of  separation  and  reconstruction  —  has  been  re- 
garded as  identical  with  the  act  of  Representation. 

Thus  Imagination,  in  the  common  acceptation  of 
the  term,  is  not  a  simple  but  a  compound  faculty, — 
a  faculty,  however,  in  which  Representation  forms  the 
principal  constituent.     If,  therefore,  we  were  obliged 


m 

m 


m 


128 


^.V  OUTLINE    OF 


to  find  a  connnoii  word  for  every  elementary  process 
of  our  analysis,  Imarj ination  v;on\d  be  the  termwliieh, 
■with  the  least  violence  to  its  meaning,  could  be  ac- 
commodated to  express  the  Kepresentativc  Faculty. 

By  Imagination,  thus  limited,  you  arc  not  to  sup- 
pose that  the  fiiculty  of  representing  mere  objects  of 
sense  alone  is  meant.  On  the  contrjiry,  a  vigorous 
power  of  Representation  is  as  indispensable  a  condi- 
tion of  success  in  the  abstract  sciences  as  in  the  poet- 
ical and  plastic  arts ;  and  it  may,  accordingly,  be 
reasonably  doubted  Avhether  Aristotle  or  Homer  were 
possessed  of  the  more  powerful  Imagination.  The 
term  Imaf/i nation,  however,  is  less  generally  applied 
to  the  representations  of  the  Comparative  Faculty 
considered  in  the  abstract  than  to  the  representations 
of  sensible  objects  concretely  modified  by  comparison. 
The  two  kinds  of  imagination  are,  in  fact,  not  fre- 
quently combined.  Accordingly,  using  the  term  in 
this  its  ordinary  extent,  that  is,  in  its  limitation  to 
objects  of  sense,  it  is  finely  said  by  IMr.  Hume : 
"Nothini?  is  more  daiio'erous  to  reason  than  the  fli<»:hts 
of  iniMgination,  and  nothing  has  been  the  occasion  of 
more  mistakes  among  philosophers.  Men  of  bright 
fancies  may,  in  this  respect,  be  compared  to  those 
angels  whom  the  Scriptures  represent  as  covering 
their  eyes  ^\  ^  i  their  wings." 

DiiEAiMiNG,  So.AiNAMBiLTSM,  ItEVEmE,  are  so  many 
effects  of  imagination  determined  by  association, — at 
least,  states  of  mind  in  which  these  have  a  decisive  in- 
fluence. 

1.  Dreaming.  If  an  impression  on  the  sense  often 
commences  a  dream,  it  is  by  imagination  and  sugges- 


it 

i] 


ocess 
liicli, 
jc  tic- 
Ity. 
»  sup- 

3tS    of 

>orous 
coiitli- 
;  poet- 

Y  Avcrc 
.     The 
ipplicd 
Faculty 
italions 
){irison. 
lot  fre- 
tcnn  in 
itiou  to 
IIuuiG : 
c  flidits 


sion 


of 


bright 
those 
ovoring 


to 


so  iiirtuy 
on, — tit 
nsivc  iu- 

lise  oftcu 
sugges- 


siR  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  rniLosopjir. 


129 


lion  that  it  is  clcvclopecl  and  accomplished.  Dreams 
have  frequently  a  degree  of  vivacit;  which  enables 
them  to  compete  with  the  reality ;  ai.d  if  the  events 
which  they  represent  to  us  Avere  in  accordance  Avitli 
the  circumstances  of  time  and  plate  in  which  we  stand, 
it  would  be  almost  impos.sil)lc  to  distinguish  a  vivid 
dream  from  a  sensible  perception.  "  If,"  sa3^s  Pascal, 
"  Ave  dreamt  every  night  the  same  thing,  it  Avould  per- 
haps aftoct  us  as  powerfully  as  the  objects  which  Ave 
perceive  every  day.  And  if  an  artisan  Averc  certain 
of  di'caming  every  night  for  tAvelve  hours  that  he  Avas 
a  king,  I  am  convinced  that  he  Avould  be  almost  as 
happy  as  a  hing  Avho  dreamt  for  tAvelve  hours  that 

he  Avas  an  artisan It  is  only  because 

dreams  are  different  and  inconsistent,  that  Ave  can  say, 
when  Avo  aAvake,  that  avo  have  dreamt;  for  life  is  a 
dream  a  little  less  inconstant." 

The  influence  of  dreams  upon  our  character  is  not 
Avithout  its  interest.  A  particular  tendency  may  be 
strengthened  in  a  man  solely  by  the  repeated  action 
of  dreams.  Dreams  do  not,  however,  as  is  commonly 
sui)posed,  afford  any  appreciable  indication  of  the 
character  of  individuals.  It  is  not  ahva3's  the  subjects 
that  occupy  us  most  AA'hen  aAvakc  that  form  the  mat- 
ter of  our  dreams  ;  and  it  is  curious  that  the  persons 
the  dearest  to  us  are  precisely  those  about  Avhom  Ave 
dream  most  rarely. 

2.  Somnambulism  is  a  phenomenon  still  more  as- 
tonishing. In  this  singular  state,  a  person  performs 
a  regular  series  of  rational  actions,  and  those  fre- 
quently of  the  most  difficult  and  delicate  nature,  and, 
Avhat  is  still  more  marvellous,  Avith  a  talent  to  Avhich 
1) 


Ml 


I'  'K 

I  i ! 


I 


130 


AN  OUTLINE    OF 


he  could  make  no  pretension  when  awake.  His  mem- 
ory and  reminiscence  supply  him  with  recollections 
of  words  and  things  which  perhaps  were  never  at 
his  disposal  in  t]>e  ordinary  state ;  he  speaks  more 
fluently  a  more  refined  language ;  and,  if  we  are 
to  credit  what  the  evidence  on  which  it  rests 
hardly  allows  lis  to  disbelieve,  he  has  not  only  per- 
ceptions through  other  channels  than  the  common  or- 
gans of  sense,  but  tlie  sphere  of  his  cognitions  is  am- 
plified to  an  extent  far  beyond  the  limits  to  which 
sensible  perception  is  confined.  This  subject  is  one 
of  the  most  perplexing  in  the  whole  compass  of  phi- 
losophy ;  for,  on  the  one  hand,  the  phenomena  are  so 
marvellous  that  they  cannot  be  believed,  and  yet,  on 
the  other,  they  are  of  so  unambiguous  and  palpable 
a  character,  and  the  witnesses  to  their  reality  are  so 
numerous,  so  intelligent,  and  so  high  above  every 
suspicion  of  deceit,  that  it  is  equally  impossi1)le  to 
deny  credit  to  what  is  attested  by  such  ample  and  un- 
exceptionable evidence. 

3.  Reverie.  The  third  state,  that  of  Reverie,  or 
castle-building,  is  a  kind  of  waking  dream,  and  does 
not  diifer  from  dreaming,  except  by  the  consciousness 
which  accompanies  it.  In  this  state,  the  mind  aban- 
dons itself  without  a  choice  of  subject,  without  control 
over  the  mental  train,  to  the  involuntary  associa- 
tions of  imagination.  It  is  thus  occupied  without 
being  properly  active  ;  it  is  active,  at  least,  Avithout 
efibrt.  Young  persons,  women,  the  old,  the  unem- 
ployed, and  the  idle,  are  all  disposed  to  reverie. 
There  is  a  pleasure  attached  to  its  illusions,  which 
renders  it  as  seductive  as  it  is  dangerous.    The  mind, 


sin    mLLIAM  ITAAflLTOX  S   rJIILOSOPnY, 


131 


itions 
er  at 
more 
e   are 

rests 
ypcr- 
.011  or- 
is am- 

Avliich 
,  is  one 
of  phi- 
i  are  so 
yet,  on 
lalpable 
'  arc  so 
}  every 
sible  to 
and  un- 

crie,  or 
iitl  does 
Loiisness 
id  al)an- 
control 
associa- 
witlioiit 
witliont 
unem- 
rcverie. 
,  which 
ic  mind, 


by  indulgence  in  this  dissipation,  becomes  enervated; 
it  acquires  the  habit  of  a  pleasing  idleness,  loses  its 
activity,  and  at  length  even  the  power  and  the  desire 
of  action. 

Organs  of  I:\rAGiKATiox.  I  shall  terminate  the 
consideration  of  Imagination  Proper  by  a  speculation 
concerning  the  organ  which  it  employs  in  the  repre- 
sentations of  scnsiWo  objects.  The  organ  which  it 
thus  employs  seems  to  be  no  other  than  the  organs 
themselves  of  Sense,  on  which  the  original  impressions 
w^ere  made,  and  through  which  they  were  originally 
perceived.  Experience  has  shown  that  Imagination 
depends  on  no  one  part  of  the  cerebral  apparatus  ex- 
clu.sivel3\  There  is  no  portion  of  tlie  brain  which  has 
not  l)eeii  destrovcd  bv  mollification,  or  induration,  or 
external  lesion,  without  the  general  faculty  of  Repre- 
sentation Ijcing  injured.  But  experience  equally 
proves*  that  the  intracranial  portion  of  any  external 
organ  of  sense  cannot  be  destroyed  without  a  certain 
partial  abolition  of  the  Imagination  Proper.  For  ex- 
ample, there  are  many  cases  recorded  by  medical  ob- 
servers, of  persons  losing  their  siglit,  who  have  also 
lost  the  faculty  of  representing  the  images  of  visible 
objects.  They  no  longer  call  up  such  objects  l)y  remi- 
niscence ;  they  no  longer  dream  of  them.  Now,  in 
these  cases,  it  is  found  that  not  merely  the  external 
instrument  of  sight  —  the  eye  —  has  been  disorgan- 
ized, but  that  the  disorganization  has  extended  to 
those  parts  of  the  brain  which  constitute  the  internal 
instrument  of  this  sense,  that  is,  the  optic  nerves  and 
thalami.  If  the  latter  —  the  real  organ  of  vision  — 
remain  sound,  the  eye  alone  being  destroyed,  the  im- 


if 


ft 


■i 


132 


^.V   OUTLINE    OF  HAMILTON  S   PniLOSOmY. 


agination  of  colors  and  forms  remains  as  vigorous  as 
when  vision  was  entire.  Similar  cases  are  recorded 
in  regard  to  the  deaf.  These  facts,  added  to  the  ob- 
servation of  the  internal  phenomena  which  take  place 
during  our  acts  of  representation,  make  it,  I  think, 
more  than  pro])able  that  there  are  as  many  organs  of 
Imagination  as  there  are  organs  of  Sense.  Thus  I 
have  a  distinct  consciousness,  that,  in  the  internal 
representation  of  visible  objects,  the  same  organs  are 
at  work  which  operate  in  the  External  Perception  of 
these  ;  and  the  same  holds  "jood  in  an  ima^^ination  of 
the  objects  of  Hearing,  Touch,  Taste,  and  Smell. 

But  not  only  sensible  perceptions,  voluntary  mo- 
tions, likewise,  are  imitated  in  and  by  the  imagination. 
I  can,  in  imagination,  represent  the  action  of  speech, 
the  play  of  the  muscles  of  the  countenance,  the  move- 
ment of  the  limbs  ;  and  when  I  do  this,  I  feel  clearly 
that  I  awaken  a  kind  of  tension  in  the  same  nerves 
through  which,  by  an  act  of  will,  I  can  determine  an 
overt  and  voluntary  motion  of  the  muscles ;  nay, 
when  the  play  of  imagination  is  very  lively,  this  ex- 
ternal movement  is  actually  determined.  Tlius  we 
frequently  see  the  countenances  of  persons,  under  the 
influence  of  imagination,  iindergo  various  changes ; 
they  gesticulate  with  their  hands,  they  talk  to  them- 
selves, and  all  this  is  in  consequence  only  of  the  im- 
agined activity  going  out  into  real  activity.  I  should, 
therefore,  be  disposed  to  conclude,  that,  as  in  Percep- 
tion, the  living  organs  of  sense  arc  from  without  de- 
termined to  energy,  so,  in  Imagination,  they  are  de- 
termined to  a  similar  energy  by  an  influence  from 
within.     {Led.  on  Metajih.,  XXXIII.) 


IS  as 

rded 

3  ob- 

[)lace 

liink, 

lis  of 

lius  I 

tcrnal 

lis  are 

on  of 

ion  of 

I. 

y  mo- 
ult ion. 

pcech, 
move- 
clearly 
nerves 

line  an 
nay, 
lis  ex- 

lius  we 
iler  the 
anges ; 
tliem- 
lio  im- 
Ishould, 
'crcep- 
ut  de- 
iire  de- 
le from 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  COGNITIONS. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    ELABOEATIVE    FACULTY. 

The  faculties  with  which  we  have  hccii  hitherto 
engaged  may  be  regarded  as  subsidiary  to  that  which 
we  are  now  about  to  consider.  This,  to  which  I  gave 
the  name  of  the  Elaborative  Faculty,  the  Faculty  of 
Relations,  or  Comparison,  constitutes  what  is  properly 
denominated  Thought,  and  corresponds  to  what  the 
Greek  philosophers  understood  by  Stdvota,  the  Latin  by 
Discursus.  It  supposes  always  at  least  two  terms, 
and  its  act  results  in  a  judgment,  that  is,  an  affirma- 
tion or  negation  of  one  of  those  terms  of  the  otiicr. 

In  opposition  to  the  views  hitherto  promulijMted  in 
regard  to  Comparison,  I  will  show  that  this  faculty  is 
at  work  in  every,  the  simplest,  act  of  mind  ;  and  that 
from  the  primary  affirmation  of  existence  in  an  origi- 
nal act  of  consciousness  to  the  judgment  contained  in 
the  conclusion  of  an  act  of  reasoning,  every  operation 
is  only  an  evolution  of  the  same  elementary  process, 
—  that  there  is  a  diflference  in  the  complexit}',  none 
in  the  nature  of  the  act.     What  I  have,  therefore,  to 

133 


134 


^JV  OUTLIKE   OF 


prove  is,  in  the  first  place,  that  Comparison  is  sup- 
posed in  every,  the  simplest,  act  of  knowledge  ;  in  the 
second.,  that  our  factitiously  simple,  our  ftictitiously 
complex,  our  al)stract,  and  our  generalized  notions 
are  all  merely  so  many  products  of  Comparison ;  in 
the  third,  that  Judgment,  and,  in  tlie  fourth,  that 
Reasoning,  is  identical  with  Comparison. 


§  1.    rniMAHY  .'^'''''.S    OF  COMPARISON. 


1.  The^r.9^  or  mos'  c^v^o  ontary  act  of  Comparison, 
or  of  that  mental  process  in  which  the  relation  of  two 
terms  is  recognized  and  afi  met',,  i .  the  judgment  vir- 
tually pronounced,  in  an  act  of  Perception,  of  the 
Non-ego,  or,  in  an  act  of  Self-consciousness,  of  the 
Ego.  This  is  the  primary  affirmation  of  existence. 
The  notion  of  existence  is  one  native  to  the  mind.  It 
is  the  primary  condition  of  thought.  The  first  act  of 
experience  aAvokc  it,  and  the  first  act  of  consciousness 
■was  a  subsumption  of  that  of  which  we  were  conscious 
under  this  notion  ;  in  other  words,  the  first  act  of 
consciousness  Avas  an  affirmation  of  the  existence  of 
somctliing.  The  first  or  simplest  act  of  Comparison 
is  thus  the  discrimination  of  existence  from  non-ex- 
istence ;  and  the  first  or  simplest  judgment  is  the 
affirmation  of  existence,  in  other  Avords,  the  denial  of 
non-existence. 

2.  But  the  something  of  which  we  are  conscious, 
and  of  which  we  predicate  existence,  in  the  primary 
judgment,  is  twofold, — the  Ego  and  the  Non-ego. 
We  are  conscious  of  both,  and  affi^n  existence  of 
both.     But  we  do  more  ;    we  do  not  merelv  affirm  the 


sin    WILLIAM  HAMILTON  S  PniLOSOPHY. 


135 


existence  of  each  out  of  relation  to  the  other,  but,  in 
aflSrming  their  existence,  we  affirm  their  existence  in 
duality,  in  difference,  in  mutual  contrast ;  that  is,  we 
not  only  affirm  the  Ego  to  exist,  but  deny  it  existing 
as  the  Non-ego ;  we  not  only  affirm  the  Non-ego  to 
exist,  but  deny  it  existing  as  the  Ego.  The  second 
act  of  Comparison  is  thus  the  discrimination  of  the 
Ego  and  the  Non-ego ;  and  the  second  judgment  is 
the  affirmation  that  each  is  not  the  other. 

3.  The  third  gradation  in  the  act  of  Comparison  is 
in  the  recognition  of  the  multiplicity  of  the  coexistent 
or  successive  phenomena,  presented  either  to  Percep- 
tion or  Self-consciousness,  and  the  judgment  in  regard 
to  their  resemblance  or  dissimilarity. 

4.  Tha  fourth  is  the  Comparison  of  the  phenomena 
with  the  native  notion  of  Substance,  and  the  judgment 
is  the  grouping  of  these  phenomena  into  different  bun- 
dles, as  the  attributes  of  different  subjects.  In  the 
external  world  this  relation  constitutes  the  distinction 
of  things ;  in  the  internal,  the  distinction  of  pow- 
ers. 

5.  The  ffth  act  of  Comparison  is  the  collation  of 
successive  phenomena  under  the  native  notion  of  Caus- 
ality, and  the  affirmation  or  negation  of  their  mutual 
relation  as  cause  and  effect. 


■'    I 


in) 

m 


§  2.    CLASSIFICATION. 

So  far,  the  process  of  Comparison  is  determined 
merely  by  objective  conditions ;  hitherto,  it  has  fol- 
lowed only  in  the  footsteps  of  nature.  In  those, 
again,  we  are  now  to  consider,  the  procedure  is,  in  a 


eltj 


136 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


cci'tiihi  sort,  artificial,  and  (l.ctcrmincd  hy  the  nocossi- 
ties  of  tiiG  thinking  subject  itself.  Thvi  mind  is  Unite 
in  its  powers  of  comprehension;  the  ohjccts,  on  the 
contrary,  which  are  presented  to  it,  are,  in  proportion 
to  its  limited  capacities,  infinite  in  number.  How, 
then,  is  this  disproportion  to  be  equalized?  How  can 
the  infinity  of  nature  be  brought  down  to  the  finitude 
of  man?  This  is  done  by  means  of  Classification. 
Objects,  though  infinite  in  number,  are  not  infinite  in 
variety ;  they  are  all,  in  a  certain  sort,  repetitions  of 
the  same  common  qualities,  and  the  mind,  though  lost 
in  the  multitude  of  individuals,  can  easily  grasp  the 
classes  into  which  their  resembling  attributes  enable 
us  to  assort  them.  This  whole  process  of  Classifica- 
tion is  a  mere  act  of  Comparison,  as  the  following  de- 
duction will  shoAV. 

(A)  Collective  Notions.  In  the  first  place,  this 
may  be  shown  in  regard  to  the  formation  of  complex 
notions,  with  which,  as  the  simplest  species  of  classi- 
fication, we  may  commence.  By  Complex  or  Collec- 
tive notions  I  mean  merely  the  notion  of  a  class  formed 
by  the  repetition  of  the  same  constituent  notion. 
Such  are  the  notions  of  an  army,  a  fared,  a  foivn,  a 
number.  These  arc  the  names  of  classes,  formed 
by  the  repetition  of  the  notion  of  a  soldier,  of  a  tree, 
of  a  house,  of  a  unit.  You  are  not  to  confound,  as 
has  sometimes  been  done,  the  notion  of  «7i  army,  a  for- 
est, a  town,  a  number,  with  the  notions  of  army ,  forest^ 
town,  and  number;  the  former,  as  I  have  said,  are 
complex  or  collective,  the  latter  are  general  or  univer- 
sal notions. 

It  is  evident  that  a  collective  notion  is  the  result  of 


sn:  m/.i.iA.v  hamiltox  s  rniLosornr. 


VM 


are 


coiiiparisou.  The  repetition  of  the  same  constitueiit 
uotioii  supposes  that  these  notions  were  compared, 
their  identity  or  absoUite  similarity  affirmed. 

In  the  whole  process  of  classification  the  mind  is  in 
a  great  measure  dependent  upon  language  for  its  suc- 
cess ;  and  in  this,  the  simplest  of  the  acts  of  Classifica- 
tion, it  may  bo  proper  to  show  how  language  ailbrds 
to  mind  the  assistance  it  requires.  Our  complex  no- 
tions being  formed  by  the  repetition  of  the  same  notion, 
it  is  evident  that  the  difficulty  we  can  experience  in 
forming  an  adequate  conception  of  a  class  of  identical 
constituents  will  be  determined  by  the  difficulty  wo 
have  in  conceiving  a  multitude.  The  comprehension 
of  the  mind  is  limited ;  it  cau  embrace  at  once  but  a 
small  number  of  objects.  It  would  thus  seem  that  an 
obstacle  is  raised  to  the  extension  of  our  complex  ideas 
at  the  very  outset  of  our  combinations.  How,  then, 
does  the  mind  proceed?  When,  by  a  first  combina- 
tion, wc  have  obtained  a  complement  of  notions  as 
complex  as  the  mind  can  embrace,  we  give  this  com- 
plement a  name.  This  being  done,  we  regard  the  as- 
semblage of  units  thus  bound  np  under  a  collective 
name  as  itself  a  unit,  and  proceed,  by  a  second  combi- 
nation, to  accumulate  these  into  a  new  complement  of 
the  same  extent.  To  this  new  complement  we  give 
another  name  ;  and  then  again  proceed  to  perform,  on 
this  more  complex  unit,  the  same  operation  we  had 
performed  on  the  first ;  and  so  we  may  go  on  rising 
from  complement  to  complement  to  an  indefinite  ex- 
tent. Thus,  a  merchant,  having  received  a  large  un- 
known sum  of  money  in  crowns,  counts  out  the  pieces 
by  fives,  and  having  done  this  till  he  has  reached 


y  ■  n 


i'Jf 


138 


AN   OVTUXE    OF 


twenty,  he  lays  them  together  in  a  heap ;  around 
these  ho  assembles  simihir  piles  of  coin,  till  they 
amount,  let  us  say,  to  twenty  ;  and  he  then  puts  the 
whole  four  hundred  into  a  bag.  In  this  manner  he 
proceeds,  until  he  fills  a  number  of  bags,  and  i)lacing 
the  whole  in  his  coffers,  he  will  have  a  complex  or 
collective  notion  of  the  quantity  of  crowns  which  ho 
has  received.  It  is  on  this  principle  that  arithmetic 
proceeds ;  tens,  hundreds,  thousands,  myriads,  hun- 
dreds of  thousands,  millions,  etc.,  arc  all  so  many 
factitious  units,  which  enable  us  to  form  notions,  vague 
indeed,  of  what  otherwise  ve  could  have  obtained  no 
conception  at  all.  So  much  for  complex  or  collective 
notions,  formed  without  decomposition,  —  a  process 
which  I  now  go  on  to  consider. 

(B)  Abstraction.  Our  thought,  that  is,  the  sum 
total  of  the  Perceptions  and  Representations  which 
occupy  us  at  any  given  moment,  is  always,  as  I  have 
frequently  observed,  compound.  The  composite  ob- 
jects of  thoughts  may  be  decomposed  in  two  ways, 
and  for  the  sake  of  two  different  interests. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  we  may  decompose  in  order 
that  we  may  recombine,  influenced  by  the  mere  pleas- 
ure which  this  plastic  operation  afibrds  us.  This  is 
poetical  analysis  and  synthesis.  On  this  process  it  is 
needless  to  dwell.  It  is  evidently  the  work  of  com- 
parison. For  example,  the  minotaur,  or  chimtera, 
or  centaur,  or  gryphon  (hippogryph) ,  or  any  other 
poetical  combination  of  diflcrent  animals,  could  only 
have  been  efiected  by  an  act  in  which  the  representa- 
tions of  these  animals  were  compared,  and  in  which 
certain  parts  of  one  were  affirmed  compatible  with 


sin    WILLIAM  nAMILT(>x\S   I'lIILOSOPnY, 


139 


order 
)leas- 
his  is 
s  it  is 

com- 
imrera, 

other 
d  only 
3senta- 

whicli 

)  with 


certain  parts  of  another.  How,  again,  is  the  imagina- 
tion of  all  ideal  beauty  or  pcrfc'oti(>n  formed?  Siini)ly 
by  comparing  the  various  beauties  or  excellences  of 
which  we  have  had  actual  experience,  and  thus  being 
enabled  to  pronounce  in  regard  to  their  conmion  and 
essential  quality. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  wo  may  decompose  in  the 
interest  of  science  ;  and  as  the  poetical  composition 
was  principally  accomplished  l)y  a  separation  of  in- 
tegral parts,  so  this  is  principally  accomplished  l)y  an 
abstraction  of  eonstituciit  qualities.  On  this  process 
it  is  necessary  to  be  more  particular. 

•Suppose  an  unknown  body  is  presented  to  ray 
senses,  and  that  it  is  capable  of  affecting  each  of  these 
in  a  certain  manner.  As  furnished  with  tive  dilferent 
oi-gans,  each  of  which  serves  to  introduce  a  certain 
class  of  perceptions  and  representations  into  the  mind, 
we  naturally  distribute  all  sensn)le  objects  into  five 
species  of  qualities.  The  abstraction  of  the  senses  is 
thus  an  operation  the  most  natural ;  it  is  even  impos- 
sible for  us  not  to  perform  it.  Let  us  now  see 
whether  abstraction  by  the  mind  be  more  arduous  than 
that  of  the  senses. 

"We  have  formerly  found  that  the  comprehension  of 
the  mind  is  extremely  limited :  it  can  only  take  cog- 
nizance of  one  object  at  a  time,  if  that  l)e  known  with 
full  intensity ;  and  it  can  accord  a  simultaneous  at- 
tention to  a  very  small  plurality  of  objects,  and  even 
that  imperfectly.  Thus  it  is  that  attention  fixed  on 
one  object  is  tantamount  to  a  withdrawal,  to  an  ab- 
straction, of  consciousness  from  every  other.  The  ab- 
straction of  the  intellect  is  thus  as  natural  as  that  of 


140 


AN  OVTLIXK   OF 


the  senses;  it  is  even  imposed  l)y  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  our  minds. 

But  is  Abstniction,  or  rather,  is  exelusive  attentiou 
the  work  of  Comparison?  This  is  evident.  Tlie  ap- 
plication of  attention  to  a  particular  ol)ject,  or  quality 
of  an  object,  supposes  a  choice  or  i)referen(!C,  and  this 
again  supposes  Comparison  and  Judgment.  Piut  this 
may  be  made  more  manifest  from  a  view  of  the 
act  of  generalization,  on  Avhich  wc  are  about  to  en- 
ter. 

.(C)  Generalization.  The  notion  of  the  figure  of 
the  desk  before  me  is  an  abstract  idea,  — an  idea  that 
makes  i)art  of  the  total  notion  of  tluit  body,  and  on 
which  I  have  concentrated  my  attention,  in  order  to 
consider  it  exclusively.  This  idea  is  abstract,  but  it 
is  at  the  same  time  individual ;  it  represents  the  fig- 
ure of  this  particular  desk,  and  not  the  figure  (jf  any 
other  body.  But  had  wc  only  individual  abstract  no- 
tions, what  would  I)e  our  knowledge?  "Wc  should  be 
cognizant  only  of  qualities  viewed  apart  from  their 
su])Jccts  (and  of  separate  phenomena  there  exists  none 
in  nature)  ;  and  as  these  qualities  arc  also  separate 
from  each  other,  we  should  have  no  knowledge  of 
their  mutual  relations.  We  should  also  be  over- 
whelmed with  their  number.  ' 

It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  we  should  form  Ab- 
stract General  notions.  This  is  done  when,  comparing 
a  number  of  objects,  we  seize  on  their  resemblances  ; 
when  we  concentrate  our  attention  on  these  points 
of  similarity,  thus  abstracting  the  mind  from  a  consid- 
eration of  their  difierenccs  ;  and  when  we  give  a  name 
to  our  notion  of  that  circumstance  in  which  they  all 


Sfll    n-lLUAM  riA.VlLTO\\<i   P/ITLOf^nn/IY. 


141 


lit  II- 
i\li()U 

Liiility 

a  ibu 
it  till'* 

)t'  the 
to  cii- 

uvc  of 

cii  that 

{Uid  on 

rdor  to 

,  but  it 

the  iig- 
of  any 
act  no- 

loukl  be 
thoh" 
ts  none 
separate 
edg-c  of 
)C    over- 

orm  Ab- 
miparing 
ibUuices; 
e  pomts 
a  consid- 
e  a  name 
they  all 


ni 


n^rce.  The  General  Notion  is  thns  one  which  niakoa 
us  know  a  quality,  property,  power,  actiou,  relation  ; 
in  short,  any  point  of  view  under  which  we  recog- 
nij  durality  of  objccls  as  a  unity.  It  makes  us 
aware  of  a  quality,  a  point  of  view,  connnon  to  many 
things.  It  is  a  notion  of  resemblance;  Ikmico  the 
reason  why  general  names  or  terms,  the  signs  of  gen- 
eral notions,  have  been  called  (cnnn  of  reKomhhtnrp. 
{termini  ,^iinilitHdini>i).  In  this  process  of  Generali- 
zation we  do  not  stop  short  at  a  tirst  (Jeneralization. 
By  a  first  Generalization  Ave  have  obtained  a  num- 
ber of  classes  of  resembling  individuals.  But  these 
classes  we  can  compare  together,  observe  their  simi- 
larities, al)straet  from  their  diilerenccs,  and  bestow  on 
their  onmion  circumstance  a  conmion  name.  On 
tlies  fjond  classes  we  can  again  perform  the  same 
operaiion,  and  thus  ascending  the  scale  of  general  no- 
tions, throwing  out  of  view  always  a  greater  number 
of  diflerences,  and  seizing  always  on  fewer  similarities 
in  the  formation  of  our  classes,  we  arrive  at  length 
at  the  limit  of  our  ascent  in  the  notion  of  beinr/  or  e.i*- 
istence.  Thus  placed  on  the  summit  of  the  scale  of 
classes,  we  descend  l)y  a  process  the  reverse  of  that 
by  which  we  have  ascended  ;  we  divide  and  subdivide 
the  classes,  by  introducing  always  more  and  more 
characters,  and  laying  always  fewer  ditrercnees  aside  ; 
the  notions  become  more  and  more  composite,  until 
we  at  lencfth  arrive  at  the  individual. 

I  may  here  notice  that  there  is  a  twofold  kind  of 
quantity  to  be  considered  in  notions.  It  is  evident 
that  in  proportion  as  the  class  is  high  it  will,  in  the  first 
place,  contain  under  it  a  greater  number  of  classes, 


IT 


142 


AX  OUTLINE   OF 


and,  in  the  second,  will  incluclc  the  smallest  com- 
plement of  attributes.  Thus  being  or  existence  con- 
tains under  it  every  class  ;  and  yet,  when  we  say  that 
a  thing  cxis-ts,  we  say  the  very  least  of  it  that  is  pos- 
sible. On  the  other  hand,  an  individual,  though  it 
contain  nothing  but  itself,  involves  the  largest  amount 
of  predication.  For  example,  when  I  say.  This  is 
Richard,  I  not  only  affirm  of  the  subject  every  class 
from  existence  down  to  man,  but  likewise  a  number 
of  circumstances  proper  to  Richnrd  as  an  individual. 
Now,  the  former  of  these  quantities,  the  external,  is 
called  the  Extension  of  a  notion  ;  the  latter,  the  in- 
ternal cpiantity,  is  called  its  Coinj)re1iension  or  Inten- 
sion. They  are  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other : 
the  greater  the  Extension,  the  less  the  Comprehen- 
sion ;  the  greater  the  Comprehension,  the  less  the  Ex- 
tension. 

Having  given  you  this  necessary  information  in  re- 
gard to  the  nature  of  Generalization,  I  pr  )ceed  to  con- 
sider one  (.f  the  most  simple,  and,  at  the  same  time, 

■  one  of  the  most  perplexed,  problems  in  philosophj', — 
in  regard  to  the  object  of  consciousness,  when  we  em- 
ploy a  general  term.  In  the  explanation  of  the  pro- 
cess of  Generalization,  all  philosophers  are  at  one; 
the  only  diflerenccs  that  arise  among  them  relate  to 
the  point,  whether  we  can  form  an  adequate  idea  of 

^that  which  is  denoted  by  an  abstract,  or  abstract  and 
general  term. 

Throwing  out  of  account  the  ancient  doctrine  of 
Idealism,  which  is  curious  onl}-  in  an  historical  point 
of  view,  there  arc  two  opinions  which  stn;  divide  phi- 
losophers.    Some  maintain  that  ever^/  ad  and  evert/ 


wm 


sin    WILLIAM  n J  MILTON*  S   rniLOSOPHY. 


143 


om- 
3on- 
tliat 
pos- 

rh    it 

LOimt 
lis  is 
class 
imbcr 
ulual. 
iial,  is 
he  iii- 
Inten- 
otlicr : 
irchcu- 
lie  Ex- 

i  in  ve- 
to eon- 
,c  time, 

)\)\\y, — 
we  om- 
the  pvo- 
lat  (nic ; 
L-elate  to 
lidea  of 
•act  and 


Itrine 
al  po 


of 
iiit 


'ide  plii- 
[nd  every 


ohject  of  mind  is  7iecesfiaril>/  singular,  and  that  the 
name  is  that  aloie  irhich  can  2'>retend  to  (jeneralily. 
Otlici'H,  again,  hold  that  tlie  mind  is  capat Ac  of  forming 
notions,  represcnialions,  corresjjondent  in  universality 
to  the  classes  contained  under,  or  expressed  by,  tha  gen- 
eral term.  Tlio  fonner  is  Ihc  doctrine  of  Kominalisni; 
tjie  latter,  the  doctrine  of  Conceptual  ism. 

Tin;  Xoniinalists  maintain  that  ever}'  notion,  con- 
sidered in  itself,  is  singular,  but  becomes,  as  it  were, 
general,  through  the  intention  of  the  mind  to  make  it 
rcpi-escnt  every  resembling  notion,  or  notion  of  the 
same  class.  Take,  for  exatnple,  the  term  man.  Here 
we  can  call  np  no  notion,  no  idoa,  corresponding  to 
the  universality  of  the  class  or  term.  This  is  mani- 
festly inip()ssii)le.  For  as  man  involves  contradictory 
attributes,  and  as  contradictions  cannot  coexist  in  one 
representation,  an  idea  or  notion  adequate  to  man  can- 
not be  realized  in  thouuht.  The  class  man  includes 
individuals,  male  and  female,  Mhite  jvnd  black  and 
coi)per-colored,  tall  and  short,  fat  and  thin,  straight 
and  crooked,  whole  and  mutilated,  etc.,  etc.  ;  and  the 
noti(m  of  the  class  nuist,  therefore,  at  once  represent 
all  and  none  of  these.  It  is,  therefore,  evident,  though 
the  absurdity  was  maintained  hy  Locke,  that  we  can- 
not accomplish  this ;  and,  this  being  inipo-sihle,  we 
cannot  represent  to  ourselves  the  class  man  by  any 
equivalent  notion  or  idea.  All  that  we  can  do  is  to 
call  np  some  individual  image,  and  consider  it  as  rep- 
resenting, though  inadequately  rcpn  senting,  the  gen- 
erality. This  we  easily  do,  for  as  we  can  call  into 
imagination  any  individual,  so  we  can  make  that  indi- 
vidual image  stand  for  any  or  for  every  other  which 


Uf 


fC' 


144 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


it  resembles  in  those  essential  points  which  constitute 
the  identity  of  the  class.  This  opinion,  which,  after 
Hobhcs,  has  been  maintained,  among  others,  by 
Berkeley,  Hume,  Adam  Smith,  Campbell,  and  Stew- 
art, ni)pears  to  me  not  only  true,  but  self-evident. 

A  general  notion  is  nothing  but  the  a])stract  notion 
of  a  circumstance  in  which  a  number  of  individual  ob- 
jects are  found  to  agree,  that  is,  to  resemble  each 
other.  Now,  resemblance,  being  a  relation,  cannot 
be  represented  in  Imagination.^  The  two  terms,  the 
two  relative  objects,  can  be  severally  imaged  in  the 
sensible  phantasy,  but  not  the  relation  itself.  This  is 
the  object  of  the  Comparative  Faculty,  or  of  Intelli- 
gence Proper.  To  objects  so  different  as  the  images 
of  sense  and  the  unpicturable  notions  of  intelligence, 
different  names  ought  to  be  given  ;  and,  accordingly, 
this  has  been  done  wherever  a  philosophical  nomen- 
clature of  the  slightest  pretensions  to  perfection  has 
been  formed.  In  the  German  language,  which  is  now 
the  richest  in  metaphysical  expressions  of  any  living 
tongue,  the  two  kinds  of  objects  arc  carefully  distin- 
guished. In  oiu"  language,  on  the  contrary,  the  terms 
idea,  conception^  notion,  are  used  .almost  as  convertible 
for  either ;  and  the  vagueness  and  confusion  which  is 
thus  produced,  even  within  the  narrow  sphere  of  spec- 
ulation to  which  the  Avant  of  the  distinction  also  con- 
fines us,  can  be  best  appreciated  by  those  who  are 


'  It  must  be  observed  thiit  the  term  Imagination  is  here  used  for 
the  representation  of  sensible  objects  alone.  See  above,  p.  128.  — 
J.  C.  M. 


sin   WILLIAM  nAMILTON*S  pniLosomY. 


145 


tute 
iftcr 

,  ^>y 

itew- 

otion 
il  ob- 
each 
aiinot 
s,  the 
in  the 
rhis  is 
LntelU- 
imagcs 
igeiicc, 

cVingly, 
iiomcu- 
lou  has 
is  now 
living 
distin- 
tcrms 
crtible 
hich  is 
of  spec- 
so  con- 
who  arc 


conversant  with  the  philosophy  of  the  different  coun- 
tries.^ 

In  connection  with  general  terms,  another  curious 
question  has  likewise  divided  philosophers.  It  is  this  : 
i)oe.s  Lanrjuage  originate  in  General  AjipeJlatives  or 
h\j  Proper  JVames?  Did  mankind,  in  the  formation 
of  language,  and  do  children,  in  their  first  application 
of  it,  commence  with  the  one  kind  of  words  or  w^ith 
tiie  other?  The  determination  of  this  question  — 
the  question  of  the  Primum  Cognitum,  as  it  w\as 
called  in  the  Schools  —  is  not  involved  in  the  question 
of  Nominalism.  On  this  question  two  opposite  theo- 
ries have  been  advanced. 

1.  Many  illustrious  philosophers  have  maintained 
that  all  tenns,  as  at  first  emjiiloyed,  are  expressive  of 
individual  objects^  and  that  these  only  subsequently  ob- 
tain a  general  acceptation.  This  opinion  I  find  main- 
tained l)y  Vives,  Locke,  Rousseau,  Condillac,  Adam 
Smith,  Steinbart,  Tittel,  Brown,  and  others.  "Tliero 
is  nothing,"  says  Locke,  "more  evident  than  that  the 
ideas  of  the  persons  children  converse  with  (to  in- 
stance in  them  alone)  are  like  the  persons  themselves, 
only  particular.  The  ideas  of  the  nurse  and  the 
mother  are  well  framed  in  their  minds  ;  and,  like  pic- 
tures of  them  there,  represent  only  those  individuals. 
The  names  they  first  gave  to  them  arc  confined  to 
these  individuals  ;  and  the  names  of  nurse  and  mamma^ 
the  child  uses,  determine  themselves  to  those  persons. 


U£ 


re 


used  for 
p.  128.— 


'  In  the  Led.  on  Metaph.  (Lcct.  XXXV.)  will  be  found  an  elabo- 
rate critique  of  tiic  doctrine  of  Conccptualism,  in  the  form  in  which 
it  was  maintained  by  Dr.  Thomas  Brown.  —  J.  C.  M. 
10 


t  ,,S  i 


n  -^ 


146 


AN  OVTLJKE   OF 


K 


Afterwards,  when  time  jiiid  ;i  larger  acquaiutaucc  have 
made  them  observe  that  there  are  n.  great  many  other 
things  in  the  world  that  in  some  common  agreements 
of  shape  and  several  other  qualities  resemble  their 
father  and  mother,  and  those  persons  they  have  been 
used  to,  they  frame  an  idea  which  they  find  those 
many  particulars  do  partake  in  ;  and  to  that  they  give, 
with  others,  the  name  man,  for  example.  And  thus 
they  come  to  have  a  general  name  and  a  general 
idea."' 

2.  On  the  other  hand,  an  opposite  doctrine  is  main- 
tained by  many  profound  philosophers.  "  General 
terms,"  says  Leibnitz,  "serve  not  only  for  the  perfec- 
tion of  languages,  but  are  even  necessary  for  their  es- 
sential constitution.  For  if  by  particulars  be  under- 
stood things  individual,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
speak,  if  there  were  only  proper  names,  and  no  appel- 
latives, that  is  to  say,  if  there  Avere  only  names  for 
things  individual,  since,  at  every  moment,  we  are  met 
by  new  ones,  when  ve  treat  of  persons,  of  accidents, 
and  especially  of  actions,  which  arc  those  that  we  de- 
scribe the  most ;  but  if  by  particulars  l)c  meant  the 
loAvcst  species  (species  infimcc),  besides  that  it  is  fre- 
quently very  difficult  to  determine  them,  it  is  manifest 
that  these  arc  already  univeisals,  founded  on  similaritv. 
Now,  as  the  only  dilference  of  species  and  (jenem  lies 
m  a  similarity  of  greater  or  less  extent,  it  is  natural 
to  notc^  every  kind  of  similarity  or  agreement,  and 
conse(iuently  to  employ  general  terms  of  every  de- 
gree ;    nay,  the  most  general  being  less  complex  with 

'  Locke's  Essay  on  the  Unman  Understanding,  III.,  3,  7. 


sin   WILLIAM  HAMILTON^ S   PniLOSOPnw 


147 


regard  to  the  essences  which  they  comprehend,  al- 
thongh  more  extensive  in  relation  to  the  things  indi- 
vidual to  which  they  apply,  arc  frequently  the  easiest 
to  form,  and  are  the  most  useful.  It  is  likewise  seen 
that  children,  and  those  who  know  but  little  of  the 
language  which  they  attempt  to  speak,  or  little  of  the 
subject  on  which  they  would  c!nploy  it,  make  use  of 
general  terms,  as  thing,  ^;Zci»<,  animal,  instead  of  us- 
ing proper  names,  of  which  they  are  destitute.  And 
it  is  certain  that  all  proper  or  individual  names  have 
been  originally  appellative  or  general."^ 

3.  But  I  have  now  to  state  a  third  opinion,  inter- 
mediate between  these,  which  conciliates  both,  and 
seems,  moreover,  to  carry  a  superior  probability  in  its 
statement.  This  opinion  maintains,  that,  as  our 
knowledge  proceeds  from  the  confused  to  the  distinct, 
so,  in  the  mouths  of  children,  language  at  first  ex- 
presses neither  the  precisely  general  nor  the  determi- 
natcly  particular,  hut  the  vague  and  confused;  aud 
that,  out  of  this,  the  universal  is  elaborated  by  gen- 
erification,  the  particular  and  singular  by  specifica- 
tion and  individualization. 

*  Though  our  capacity  of  attention  be  very  limited  in 
regard  to  the  number  of  objects  on  which  u  faculty 
can  be  simultaneously  directed,  yet  these  objects  may 
1)0  large  or  small.  We  may  make,  for  example,  a 
single  object  of  attention  cither  of  a  whole  man,  or  of 
his  face,  or  of  his  eye,  or  of  the  pupil  of  his  eye,  or 
of  a  speck  upon  the  pupil.  To  each  of  these  objects 
there  can  only  be  a  certain  amount  of  attentive  per- 


A 


'.  ! 


'  Nouveaux  Essais,  Lib.  III.,  cnp.  1. 


If  -^ 


M8 


AN   OUTLIXE    OF 


ccptioii  applied,  and  wc  can  concentrate  it  all  on  any 
one.  In  proportion  as  the  object  is  larger  and  more 
complex,  our  attention  can  of  course  be  less  applied 
to  any  part  of  it,  and,  consequently,  our  knowledge  of 
it  in  detail  will  be  vaguer  and  more  imperfect.  But 
having  first  acquired  a  compreliensive  knowledge  of  it 
as  a  whole,  we  can  descend  to  its  several  parts,  con- 
sider these  both  in  themselves,  and  in  relation  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  whole  of  which  they  arc  constituents, 
and  thus  attain  to  a  complete  and  articulate  knov.ledge 
of  the  object.  Wc  decompose,  and  then  avc  reconi- 
pose. 

But  in  this  wc  always  proceed  first  by  decomposi- 
tion or  analysis.  All  analysis  indeed  supposes  a  fore- 
gone composition  or  synthesis,  because  wo  cannot 
decompose  what  is  not  already  composite.  But  in 
our  acquisition  of  knowledge,  the  objects  are  pre- 
sented to  us  compounded  ;  and  they  obtain  a  unity  only 
in  the  unity  of  our  consciousness.  The  unity  of  con- 
sciousness is,  as  it  were,  the  frame  in  which  objects 
are  seen.  I  say,  then,  that  the  first  procedure  of 
mind  in  the  elaboration  of  its  knowledge  is  always 
analytical.  It  descends  from  the  whole  to  the  parts, 
—  from  the  vague  to  the  definite.  Definitude,  that  is, 
a  knowledge  of  minute  dilferences,  is  not,  as  the  op- 
posite theor}'  supposes,  the  first,  but  the  last,  term  of 
our  cognitions.  Between  two  sheep  an  ordinary  spec- 
tator can  pro])ably  apprehend  no  ditference,  and  if 
they  Avcre  twice  presented  to  him,  he  would  be  unable 
to  discriminate  the  one  from  the  other.  But  a  shep- 
herd can  distinguish  every  individual  sheep ;  and 
why?     Because   he   has   descended   from  the  vague 


SIR  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  riiiLosornr.' 


149 


only 
cou- 

)jCCt3 

•c  of 
Iwtiys 
parts, 
uitis, 
\c  op- 
ivm  of 
spec- 
[incl  if 
unal)l(! 
.  shep ■ 
;    and 
vague 


knowledge  Mhich  we  all  have  of  sheep,  —  from  the 
vague  knowledge  which  makes  every  sheep,  as  it  were, 
only  a  repetition  of  the  same  undilferenced  unit,  — to 
a  deiinito  knowledge  of  qualities  by  which  each  is  con- 
trasted from  its  neighbor.  Now,  in  this  example,  mo 
apprehend  the  sheep  by  marks  not  less  individual  than 
those  by  which  the  shepherd  discriminates  them  ;  but 
the  whole  of  each  sheep  being  made  an  object,  the 
marks  by  which  we  know  it  arc  the  same  in  each  and 
all,  and  cannot,  therefore,  afford  the  principle  by 
which  we  cau  discriminate  them  from  each  other. 
Now  this  is  what  appears  to  me  to  take  place  with 
children.  They  lirst  know  tlie  things  and  persons 
presented  to  them  as  wholes.  But  wholes  of  the  same 
kind,  if  we  do  not  descend  to  their  parts,  aflbrd  us  no 
mark  by  which  we  can  discriminate  the  one  from  the 
other.  Children,  thus,  originally  perceiving  similar 
objects  —  persons,  for  example — only  as  wholes, 
do  at  first  hardly  distinguish  them.  They  apprehend 
first  the  more  ol)triisive  marks  that  separate  species 
from  species,  and,  in  consequence  of  the  notorious  con- 
trast of  dress,  men  from  women ;  but  they  do  not  as 
yet  recognize  the  finer  traits  that  discriminate  indi- 
vidual from  individual.  But,  though  thus  apprehend- 
ing individuals  only  by  what  wc  now  call  their  specific 
or  their  generic  qualities,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  children  know  them  by  any  abstract  general 
attributes ;  that  is,  by  attriljutes  formed  by  com- 
parison and  attention.  On  the  other  hand,  because 
their  knowledge  is  not  general,  it  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed to  be  ptirticular  or  individual,  if  by  particular 
be  meant  a  separation  of  species  from  species,  and  by 


'    It  I 

i 


p?    -■«■ 


I'W' 


150 


AX^  OUTLINE   OF 


individiuil,  the  separation  of  indivitliial  from  iiitll- 
vitliial ;  for  children  arc  at  first  apt  to  confound  in- 
dividuiils  together,  not  only  in  name,  but  in  reality. 

What  I  have  now  said  is,  I  think,  sufficient  in  regard 
to  the  nature  of  Generalization.  It  is  notoriously  a  mere 
act  of  Comparison.  Wc  compare  objects ;  we  find 
them  similar  in  certain  respects,  that  is,  in  certain 
respects  they  affect  us  in  the  same  manner ;  we  con- 
sider the  qualities  in  them,  that  thus  affect  us  in  the 
same  manner,  as  the  same  ;  and  to  this  conmion  qual- 
ity wc  give  a  name ;  and  as  we  can  predicate  this 
name  of  all  and  each  of  the  resembling  objects,  it  con- 
stitutes them  into  a  class.  Aristotle  has  truly  said 
that  general  names  are  only  abbreviated  definitions, 
and  definitions,  3'ou  know,  are  judgments.  For  ex- 
ample, animal  is  only  a  compendious  expression  for 
organized  and  animated  body ;  man,  only  a  sunnnary 
of  rational  animal,  etc. 

§  3.   JUDGMENT. 


In  the  processes  of  judgment  and  reasoning,  the  act 
of  Corapariwon  is  a  judgment  of  something  more  than 
a  more  affirmation  of  the  oxistonco  of  a  iihcnomenon, 
—  something  more  than  a  mere  discrimination  of  one 
phenomenon  from  another ;  and,  accordingly,  Avhile 
it  has  happened  that  the  intervention  of  judgment  in 
every,  even  the  simplest,  act  of  primary  cognition,  as 
monotonous  and  rapid,  has  l)ecn  overlooked,  the  name 
has  been  exclusively  limited  to  the  more  varied  and 
elaborate  comparison  of  one  notion  with  another,  and 
the  enouncement  of  their  agreement  or  disagreement. 


sin    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S   miLOSOPnY. 


151 


idl- 
iii- 

y- 

Tavd 
iiere 

find 
vtiiin 

cou- 
11  the 

qual- 
c  this 
it  con- 
y  said 
it  ions, 
or  ex- 
ion  for 
inuiiury 


he  act 
re  than 
mcnon, 
of  one 
while 
uent  in 
tion,  as 
c  name 
cd  and 
icr,  and 
ement. 


It  is  in  the  discharge  of  this,  its  more  ohtrusive  func- 
tion, that  wo  arc  now  about  to  consider  the  Elabora- 
tive  Faculty. 

I  have  already  noticed  that  our  knowledge  docs  not 
commence  with  the  individual  and  the  most  particular 
objects  of  knowledge, — that  we  do  not  rise  in  any 
regular  progress  from  the  less  to  the  more  general, 
first  considering  the  qualities  which  characterize  indi- 
viduals, then  those  which  belong  to  species  and  gen- 
era, in  regular  ascent.  On  the  contrary,  our  knowl- 
edge commences  with  the  vague  and  confused.  Out 
of  this  the  general  and  the  individual  are  both  equally 
evolved.  In  consequence  of  this  genealogy  of  our 
knowledge  we  usually  commence  by  bestowing  a  name 
upon  a  whole  object  or  congeries  of  objects,  of  Mhich, 
hoAvever,  we  possess  only  a  partial  and  indefinite  con- 
ception. In  the  sequel,  this  vague  notion  becomes 
somewhat  mere  determinate ;  the  partial  idea  which 
we  had  becomes  enlarged  by  new  accessions  ;  b}'  de- 
grees our  conception  waxes  fuller,  and  represents  a 
greater  number  of  attributes.  With  this  conception, 
thus  amplified  and  improved,  we  compare  the  last  no- 
tion which  has  been  acquired ;  that  is  to  say,  we  com- 
pare a  part  with  its  whole,  or  with  the  other  parts  of 
this  whole,  and,  finding  that  it  is  harmonious,  — that  it 
dovetails  and  naturally  assorts  with  other  parts,  — we 
acquiesce  in  this  union ;  and  this  we  denominate  an 
act  of  judgment. 

I  have  the  conception  of  a  triangle,  and  this  concep- 
tion is  composed  in  my  mind  of  several  others. 
Among  these  partial  notions,  I  select  that  of  two  sides 
greater  than  the  third,  and  this  notion,  which  I  had  at 


■\% 


If 

! 


'^1 


152 


AS   OUTLINE   OF 


first,  as  it  were,  taken  apart,  I  rcuuito  with  the  others 
from  which  it  had  been  separated,  saying  the  triangle 
contains  always  two  sides,  which  together  are  greater 
than  the  third. 

Every  time  we  judge,  wo  compare  a  total  concep- 
tion with  a  partial,  and  wo  recognize  that  the  latter 
really  constitntes  a  part  of  the  former.  One  of  these 
conceptions  has  received  the  name  of  subject;  the 
other,  that  of  attribute  or  jjredicafe.  The  verb  which 
connects  these  two  parts  is  called  the  copula.  The 
quadrangle  is  a  double  trianrjle;  nine  is  an  odd  num- 
her;  body  is  divisible.  Here  quadrangle,  nine,  body, 
are  subjects  ;  a  double  triangle,  an  odd  number,  divis- 
ible, are  predicates.  The  whole  mental  judgment, 
formed  by  the  subject,  predicate,  and  copula,  is  called, 
when  enounced  in  wovds,  proj^osition. 

In  discourse,  the  parts  of  a  proposition  are  not  al- 
ways found  placed  in  logical  order ;  but  to  discover 
and  discriminate  them,  it  is  only  requisite  to  ask, 
What  is  the  thing  of  ivhich  something  else  is  affirmed 
or  denied?  The  answer  to  this  question  will  point 
out  the  subject;  and  we  shall  find  the  predicate  if  we 
inquire,  What  is  affirmed  or  denied  of  the  matter  of 
which  we  speah? 

In  fine,  when  we  judge,  we  must  have,  in  the  first 
place,  at  least  two  notions ;  in  the  second  place,  wo 
compare  these;  in  the  third,  we  recognize  that  one 
contains  or  excludes  the  other;  and,  in  tho  fourth,  we 
acquiesce  in  this  recognition. 


SlJi    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PniLOSOmY. 


153 


1CV9 

utcr 


ccp- 
iittcr 
:hcse 

the 
vhich 

The 
nwn- 
bodi/i 
d'lvis- 
^nicnt, 
called, 

not  al- 
iscover 
ask, 
[firmed 
point 
if  Ave 
liter  of 

he  first 
iicc,  we 
At  cue 
Irth,  we 


§  4.    REASONINO. 

Simple  Comparison  or  Judgment  is  conversant  with 
two  notions,  the  one  of  which  is  contained  in  the 
other.  But  it  often  liappens  that  one  notion  is  con- 
tained in  another  not  inunediately,  but  mediately,  and 
we  may  be  able  to  recognize  the  relation  of  these  to 
each  other  only  throngh  a  third,  which,  as  it  imme- 
diately contains  the  one,  is  immediately  contained  in  the 
other.  Take  the  notions  A,  B,  C,  — A  contains  B; 
B  contains  C  ;  A  therefore  also  contains  C.  But  as, 
ex  hypothed,  we  do  not  at  once  and  directly  know  C 
as  contained  in  A,  we  cannot  immediately  compare 
them  together  and  judge  of  their  relation.  We  there- 
fore perform  a  double  or  complex  process  of  compari- 
son ;  we  compare  B  with  A,  and  C  with  B,  and  then 
C  with  A  through  B.  "We  say,  B  is  a  part  of  A  ;  C 
is  a  part  of  B ;  therefore  C  is  a  part  of  A.  This 
double  act  of  comparison  has  obtained  the  name  of 
Reasoning;  the  term  Judgment  being  left  to  express 
the  simple  act  of  comparison,  or  rather  its  result. 

Rea.-oning  is  either  from  the  whole  to  its  parts ;  or 
from  all  the  parts,  discretively,  tf)  the  Avhole  they  con- 
stitute, collectively.  The  former  of  these  is  Deduc- 
tive, the  latter  is  Inductive,  Reasoning.  The  state- 
ment you  will  find,  in  all  logical  l>ooks,  of  reasonings 
from  certain  parts  to  the  whole,  or  from  certain  parts 
to  certain  parts,  is  erroneous.  I  shall  first  speak  of 
the  reasoning  from  the  whole  to  its  parts,  — or  of 

I.  Deductive  lleasoning.  It  is  self-evident,  that 
whafever  is  the  part  of  a  ])art  is  a  jxirt  of  the  ichde. 


% 


«ai 


154 


Ay  OUTLINE    OF 


1 


This  one  axiom  is  tlic  foundation  of  all  reasoning  from 
the  whole  to  the  parts.  There  are,  however,  tAVo  kindd 
of  whole  and  parts  ;  and  these  constitute  two  varieties, 
or  rather  two  phases,  of  deductive  reasoiiiii;^.  This 
distinction,  which  is  of  the  most  important  kind,  has 
nevertheless  been  wholly  overlooked  by  philosophers, 
in  consecpieucc  of  which  the  utmost  perplexity  and 
confusion  have  been  introduced  into  the  science. 

I  have  formerly  stated  that  a  proposition  consists 
of  two  terms,  — the  subject  and  the  predicate.  Now, 
in  difTercnt  relations  wc  may  regard  the  su])ject  as  the 
whole  and  the  predicate  as  its  part,  or  the  predicate 
as  the  whole  and  the  subject  as  its  part. 

Let  us  take  the  proposition,  milh  is  white.  Now, 
here  we  may  either  consider  the  predicate  icliite  as 
cue  of  a  number  of  attributes,  the  whole  complement 
of  which  constitutes  the  subject  milk.  In  this  point 
of  view,  the  predicate  is  a  part  of  the  sul)ject.  Or, 
again,  Ave  may  consider  the  predicate  ichite  as  the 
name  of  a  clas?^  of  objects,  of  which  the  subject  is 
one.  In  this  point  of  view,  the  subject  is  a  ptirt  of  the 
predicate. 

You  will  remember  the  distinction,  Avliich  I  for- 
merly'stated,  of  the  twofold  quantity  of  notions  orterms. 
The  Extension  of  a  notion  or  term  corresponds  to  the 
greater  number  of  subjects  contained  under  a  predi- 
cate ;  the  Intension,  or  Comprehension,  of  a  notion  or 
term,  to  the  greater  nimiber  of  predicates  contained 
in  a  su])ject.  These  quantities  or  wholes  are  always 
in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.  Now,  it  is  sinirii- 
lar  that  logicians  should  have  taken  this  distinction 
between  notions,  and  yet  not  have  thought  of  applying 


Or, 

the 
ect  is 
of  the 

I  for- 
tcrms. 
to  t\ie 
procli- 
tion  or 
nttiiuecl 
uhviiys 
singu- 


ig 


srn  WILLIAM  riAMiLTos  s  p/ifLosopnr. 


ir)5 


it  to  roftsoninj]^.  Ihit  so  it  is  ;  and  tliis  is  not  tlic  only 
ovcrsiiriit  they  have  coinmittt'd  in  tlic  application  of  the 
very  primary  principles  of  their  science.  The  great 
distinction  avc  have  estahlished  hctween  the  siihject 
and  })redicate  considered  severally,  as,  in  diU'erent  re- 
lations, whole  and  as  part,  constitntes  the  primary  and 
principal  division  of  Syllogisms,  hoth  Dednctivo  and 
Indnctive;  and  its  introdnction  wipes  olf  a  complex 
mass  of  rules  and  (lualilications,  which  the  want  of  it 
rendered  necessary.  I  can,  of  course,  at  present, 
only  exi)lain  in  general  the  nature  of  this  distinction ; 
its  details  helong  to  the  science  of  the  Laws  of 
Thought,  or  Logic,  of  which  we  are  not  here  to 
treat. 

1.  De(hidivc  lieasoning  in  Comprehension.  I  shall 
first  consider  the  process  of  that  Deductive  Inference 
m  which  the  subject  is  viewed  as  the  whole,  the  pred- 
icate as  the  part.  In  this  reasoning,  the  whole  is  deter- 
mined by  the  Comprehension,  and  is,  again,  cither  a 
Physical  or  Essential  whole,  or  an  Integral  or  Mathe- 
matical whole,  (rt)  A  Physical  or  Essential  whole  is 
that  which  consists  of  not  really  separable  parts,  of  or 
pertaining  to  its  substance.  Thus,  man  is  made  up  of 
two  substantial  parts, — a  mind  and  a  body;  and 
each  of  these  has  again  various  qualities,  which,  though 
sepa.  '  >'  oi5ly  by  mental  abstraction,  are  considered 
as  so  many  parts  of  an  essential  whole.  Thus  the  at- 
tributes f  respiration,  of  digestion,  of  locomotion,  of 
color,  are  so  many  parts  of  the  whole  notion  we  have 
'f  the  human  body' ;  cognition,  feeling,  desire,  virtue, 
vice,  etc.,  so  man"  parts  of  the  whole  notion  we  have 
of  the  human  mind ;   and  all  these  together,  so  many 


i  I' 


. 


156 


AN  OUTLISE   OF 


parts  of  the  whole  notion  avc  have  of  man.  {h)  A 
Matlioniatical  or  Integral  or  Quantitative  whole  is  that 
which  has  part  out  of  part,  and  which  therefore  can 
be  really  partitioned.  The  Integral,  or,  as  it  ought 
to  be  called,  Integrate  Avhole  (totuminleijrutuin)  ia 
composed  of  integrant  parts  (partes  intcfjranles)^ 
which  are  either  honi()<j:eneous  or  heteroG^enoous.  An 
example  of  the  former  is  given  in  the  division  of  a 
square  into  two  triangles ;  of  the  latter,  in  the  divis- 
ion of  the  animal  body  into  head,  trunk,  extremities, 
etc. 

This  being  understood,  let  us  consider  how  we  pro- 
ceed when  v/e  reason  from  the  relation  between  a  com- 
prehensive whole  and  its  parts.  Here  it  is  evident 
that  all  the  parts  of  the  predicate  must  also  be  parts 
of  the  subject ;  in  other  terms,  all  that  beh)ngs  to 
the  predicate  nuist  also  belong  to  the  subject.  In  the 
words  of  the  scholastic  adage,  JSFota  nofic  est  nota 
rei  ips'ius;  Preduvtutn  prcdicati  est  prcdimtum  sub- 
ject'.    An  exaniph;  of  this  reasoning  :  — 

Europe  contains  England  ; 

Engl.'ind  contains  Middk'sex  ; 

Th  're'  )re,  Europe  contains  Middlesex. 

In  other  words,  England  is  an  integrant  part  of  Eu- 
rope i  ?.Iiddlesex  is  an  integrant  part  of  Europe.  This 
U  !in  example  from  a  matheui.itical  whole  and  pa'  ts. 
Again  :  — 

Socrates  is  just  (that  is,  Socratca  contains  justice 
as  a  (j'lality)  , 

Justice  is  a  vi/tuo  (that  is,  justice  contains  viituo 
as  a  consliluent  part)  ; 

Therefore,  Socrates  is  virtuous. 


;  1: 


Slli    WILLIAM  nAATILTOX's   PniLOSOPIlY. 


157 


T'uis 
Ill  slice 

r'u-tUO 


Jr.  other  wortls,  justice  is  an  attribute  or  essential 
part  of  Socrates ;  virtue  is  an  attribute  or  essential 
part  of  justice  ;   tlicret'ore,  virtue  is  an  attribute  or 


rt  of  Socni 


Thi 


)1( 


cssentuil  part  oi  Socrates,  iius  is  an  example  irom 
a  physical  or  essential  whole  and  parts. 

2.  Deductive  Reasoning  in  ExteuKinn.  I  proceed, 
in  the  second  place,  to  the  otlier  kind  of  Doductivo 
IteasoJiing, — that  in  which  the  subject  is  the  part, 
the  predicate  is  the  whole.  This  reasoning  proceeds 
under  that  species  of  whole  which  has  been  called  the 
Loirical,  or  Potential,  or  Universal.  This  whole  is 
determined  by  the  Extension  of  a  notion  ;  the  genera 
haviug  species,  and  the  species  individuals,  as  their 
parts.  The  parts  of  a  logical  or  universal  Avholc  arc 
called  the  subject  parts. 

From  what  you  know  of  the  process  of  generaliza- 
tion, you  are  aware  that  general  terms  are  expressive 
of  attributes  which  may  be  predicated  of  many  dilfer- 
ent  objects ;  and  inasmueh  as  these  objects  reseinide 
each  tither  in  the  common  attribute,  thev  are  consid- 
cred  by  us  as  constituting  a  class.  Thus,  when  T  say 
that  a  horse  is  a  (piadrupcd  ;  Bucephalus  is  a  horse  ; 
then.'fore,  lhic(>phalus  is  a  qna<lrui)(Ml : — I  viitually 
say,  —  Jiorse,  the  subject,  is  a  i):nt  of  \\w  iiriMljcato 
qnadt'iiped;  lincephahis,  the  subject,  is  part  of  the 
pre(lic:ite  /torse;  therefore,  nnceplnilus,  the  subject,  is 
part  of  tb'  predicate  qnadnipod.  In  the  reasoning 
under  t'.s  whole  you  will  observe  (hat  the  same  word, 
as  it  \'>  whole  or  part,  changes  from  i)redicate  to  sub- 
ject ;  h<ii's»\  when  viewed  as  a  part  of  f/tiddrxprd,  hc- 
ing  the  subject  of  the   proposition;    whereas,  when 


-f 


^j 


'i'i 


1  ■  H: 

ill 

-    Til 


i  m 


158 


AN  OUTLINE    OF 


viewed  as  a  whole  containing  Bucephalus,  it  becomes 
the  predicate. 

II.  Inductive  Reasoning  is  founded  on  the  princi- 
ple, that  what  is  true  of  every  constituent  part  belonr/s, 
or  does  not  belong.,  to  the  constitided  ichole.  Induction, 
like  Deduction,  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds,  ac- 
cording us  tlie  whole  and  parts,  about  which  it  is  con- 
versant, are  Comprehensive  or  P^xtensive. 

1.  Thus,  in  \\\o  former:  — 

Gold  is  a  metal,  yellow,  ductile,  fusible  in  aqua 
regia,  of  a  certain  specific  gravity,  ajid  so  on  ; 

These  qualities  constitute  this  body  (are  all  its 
parts)  ; 

Therefore,  this  body  is  gold. 

2.  In  the  latter:  — 

Ox,  horse,  dog,  etc.,  arc  animals,  that  is,  arc  con- 
tained under  the  class  animal ; 

Ox,  horse,  dog,  etc.,  constitute  (are  all  tlic  con- 
stituents of)  the  class  quadruped  ; 

Tiiorefore,  quadruped  is  contained  under  animal. 

Both  in  the  Deductive  and  Inductive  processes  the 
inference  nuist  be  of  an  absolute  necessitv,  in  so  far 
as  the  mental  illation  is  concerned  ;  that  is,  every 
conse(iuent  proposition  must  be  evolved  out  of  every 
antecedent  proposition  with  intuitive  evidence.  I  do 
not  mean,  by  this,  that  the  antei  edcnt  sliould  be  nec- 
essarily true,  or  that  the  consequent  be  really  con- 
tained in  it  ;  it  is  sutHcie.nt  that  the  antecedent  be 
assumed  as  ti'ue,  and  that  the  consequent  be,  in  con- 
formity to  the  laws  of  thought,  evolved  out  of  it  as  its 
part  or  its  equation.  This  last  is  called  Logical  or 
Formal  or  Subjective  truth ;    and  an  int'erencc  may  bo 


STP.    WILLIAM  HAMILTOy'S   PIIILOSOPnY. 


iryd 


lal. 

;es  the 
so  ftir 
every 
every 
I  do 
)e  uoc- 
y  eon- 
eiit   be 
in  con- 
it  as  its 
irieiil  or 


may 


be 


subjectively  or  formally  true,  which  is  olyectively  or 
really  false. 

The  account  given  of  Induction  in  all  works  of 
Logic  is  utterly  erroneous.  Sometimes  we  find  this 
inference  described  as  a  precarious,  not  a  necessary, 
reasoning.  It  is  called  an  illation  from  some  to  all. 
But  here  the  some,  as  it  neither  contains  nor  consti- 
tutes (he  all,  determines  no  necessary  movement,  and 
a  conclusion  drawn  under  these  circumstances  is  log- 
ically vicious.  Others  again  describe  the  Inductive 
process  thus :  — 

What  belongs  to  some  objects  of  a  class  belongs  to 
the  whole  class  ; 

This  property  belongs  to  some  objects  of  the  class ; 

Therefore,  it  belongs  to  the  whole  class. 

This  account  of  Induction,  Avhich  is  the  one  vou 
will  find  in  all  the  English  works  on  Logic,  is  not  an 
inductive  reasoning  at  all.  It  is,  logically  considered, 
a  deductive  syllogism;  and,  logically  considered,  a 
syllogism  radically  vicious.  It  is  logically  vicious  to 
say,  that,  because  some  individuals  of  a  class  have 
certain  connnon  qualities  apart  from  that  i)roperty 
which  constitutes  the  class  itself,  therefore  the  wliolo 
individuals  of  the  class  should  partake  in  ^i;"se  <]uali- 
ties.  For  this  there  is  no  logical  reason,  —  no  neces- 
sity of  thought.  The  probal>ility  of  this  inference, 
and  It  is  only  probable,  is  founded  on  the  observation 
of  tlu^  analogy  of  nature,  and,  therefore,  iKtt  ui)on  the 
laws  of  thought  by  which  alone  reasoning,  considiM'ed 
as  a  logical  jjrocess,  is  exclusivel}'  govci'iied.  To  be- 
come a  formally  legitimate  induction,  the  objective 
probability  must  be  clothed  with  a  sulyective  ncccs- 


n 


•      'a 


41; 

m 


i 


160 


^.V   OUTLINE    OF 


sity,  and  the  .some  must  be  tnmslatcd  into  the  a??Avliich 
it  is  supposed  to  represent. 

In  the  deductive  syllogism  we  proceed  by  analysis, 
that  is,  by  decomposing  a  whole  into  its  parts ;  but 
as  the  two  wholes  Avith  which  reasoning  is  conversant 
are  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other,  so  our  analysis 
in  the  one  will  correspond  to  our  synthesis  in  the 
other.  For  example,  when  I  divide  a  whole  of  exten- 
sion into  its  parts,  —  when  I  divide  a  genus  into  the 
species,  a  species  into  the  individuals  it  contains,  —  I 
do  so  by  adding  ricw  difVerences,  and  thus  go  on  ac- 
cunudating  in  the  parts  a  complement  of  qualities 
which  did  not  belong  to  the  wholes.  This,  therefore, 
Avhich,  in  point  of  extension,  is  an  analysis,  is,  in 
point  of  comprehension,  a  synthesis.  In  like  manner, 
Avhen  I  decompose  \\  whole  of  comprehension,  that 
is,  decompose  a  complex  predicate  into  its  constit- 
uent attributes,  I  ol)tain  by  this  process  a  simpler 
and  more  general  quality,  and  thus  this,  which,  in  re- 
lation to  a  conqirchensive  whole,  is  an  analysis,  is,  in 
relation  to  an  extensive  whole,  a  S3'nthesis.  As  the 
deductive  inference  is  Analytic,  the  inductive  is  Syn- 
thetic. But  as  induction,  equally  as  deduction,  is 
conv(U'sant  with  both  wholes,  so  the  svnthesis  of  in- 
duction  on  the  comprehensive  whole  is  a  reversed 
process  to  its  synthesis  on  the  extensive  whole. 

You  will  therefore  be  aware,  that  the  terms  anahjsifi 
and  fti/nt/iesifi,  when  used  without  qualilication,  may 
be  employed  at  cross  purposes,  to  denote  operations 
precis(dy  the  converse  of  {>ach  other.  And  so  it  has 
hap[)ened.  Analysis,  in  the  mouth  of  one  set  of  phi- 
losophers, means  precisely  what  synthesis  denotes  in 


sin  WILLIAM  HAMILTON  s  pniLOsopnr. 


IGl 


ihj 


Si.S 


1,  "^'0' 

[rut  ions 

it  luis 

)f  plii- 

hotcs  in 


tlic  mouth  of  another ;  nay,  what  is  even  still  more 
frequent,  those  words  arc  perpetually  converted  with 
each  other  by  the  same  philosopher.  I  may  notice, 
what  has  rarely,  if  ever,  been  remarked,  that  synthe- 
sis, in  the  writings  of  the  Greek  logicians,  is  ecpiivalcnt 
to  the  analysis  of  modern  philosophers  ;  the  former, 
regarding  the  extensive  whole  as  the  principal,  applied 
analysis,  xar  ^^'/v--,  to  its  division  ;  the  latter,  viewing 
the  comprehensive  whole  as  the  principal,  in  general 
Innit  analysis  to  its  decomposition.  This,  however, 
has  been  overlooked,  and  a  confusion  the  most  inex- 
tricable prevails  in  regard  to  the  use  of  these  words, 
if  the  thread  of  the  labyrinth  is  not  obtained.  {Led. 
on  Metaph.,  XXXIV.-XXXVII.) 


i 


nstit- 
nplcr 
in  re- 


is. 


ni 

s  the 
Syn- 

m,  is 
f  in- 
cd 


o 


crs 


It 


li 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  COGNITIONS. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


THE    REGULATIVE    FACULTY. 


l?y 


ill: 


I  NOW  enter  upon  the  last  of  the  Cognitive  Faculties, 
—  the  faculty  which  I  denominated  the  Regulative. 
Here  the  term  faculty,  you  will  ol)serve,  is  employed 
in  a  somewhat  peculiar  signification,  for  it  is  employed 
not  to  denote  the  proximate  cause  of  any  definite  en- 
ergy, but  the  power  the  mind  has  of  being  the  native 
source  of  certain  necessary  or  a  priori  cognitions ; 
which  cognitions,  as  they  are  the  conditions,  the  forms, 
under  which  our  knowledge  in  general  is  possible, 
constitute  so  manv  fundamental  laws  of  intellectual 
nature.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  I  call  the  power  which 
the  mind  possesses  of  modifying  the  knowledge  it  re- 
ceives, in  conformity  to  its  proper  nature,  its  Regula- 
tive Faculty.  The  Regulative  Faculty  is,  however, 
in  fact,  nothing  more  thsm  the  complement  of  such 
laws ;  it  is  the  locus  prlncipiorum.  It  thus  corre- 
sponds to  Avhat  was  known  in  the  Greek  philosophy 
under  the  name  of  k;Dt,  when  that  term  was  rigor- 
ously used.     To  this  faculty  has  been  bitterly  applied 

162 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  nAMIL'rON*S  rniLOSOPHY. 


163 


ilties, 
ative. 
)loyed 
ployed 
to  cn- 

ative 

ions ; 

'onus, 

cctual 
Avliich 

it  rc- 
logula- 
wover, 
)f  svich 

corro- 
osophy 

rigor- 
appUed 


the  ii.am )  Hcason ;  but  this  term  is  so  vague  and  am- 
biguous, that  it  is  almost  unfitted  to  convey  any  defi- 
nite meaning.  Tlie  term  Common  Sense  has  likewise 
been  applied  to  designate  the  place  of  principles.  This 
word  is  also  aiiil)iguous.  In  the  Jh'st  place,  it  was  the 
expression  used  in  the  Aristotelic  philosophy  to  denote 
the  Central  or  Common  Sensory ^  in  which  the  differ- 
ent external  senses  met  and  were  united.  In  the  sec- 
ond place,  it  was  miployed  to  signify  a  sound  under- 
standing aj)2)lied  to  vuhjar  objects,  in  contrast  to  a 
scientijic  or  sj)ecnlative  intelligence ;  and  it  is  in  this 
signification  that  it  has  been  taken  by  those  who  have 
derided  the  principle  on  which  the  philosophy,  Avhich 
has  been  distinctively  denominated  the  Scottish,  pro- 
fessesto  be  established.  This  is  not,  however,  the  mean- 
ing which  has  always,  or  even  principally,  been  at- 
tached to  it ;  and  an  incomparably  stronger  case  might 
be  made  out  in  defence  of  this  expression  than  has 
been  done  by  lleid,  or  even  by  Mr.  Stewart.  It  is,  in 
fact,  a  term  of  high  anti(piity  and  very  general  accep- 
tation. Were  it  allowed  in  metaphysical  philosoph}', 
as  in  physical,  to  discriminate  scientific  dificreuceg  by 
scientific  terms,  I  would  employ  the  word  noetic,  as 
derived  from  w-r^r,  to  ex[)rcss  all  those  cognitions 
that  originate  in  the  mind  itself;  dianoetic  to  denote 
the  operations  of  the  Discursive,  Elaborative,  or  Com- 
parative Faculty.^   (Led.  on  Metaph.,  XXXVIII.) 


'  For  an  nccoiint  of  tlip  various  names  hy  whicli  tlie  principles  of 
Common  Sense  have  boon  designated,  see  Iteid's  Works,  Note  A. 
Tills  note  is  an  elaborate  dissertation  on  tlio  Philosophy  vf  Common 
Sense,  and  deserves  study  in  this  connection.  —  J.  C.  M. 


.ii! 


■ft 

Hi   it 

n 


164 


^lA'  OVTLISE   OF 


h 


The  essential  notes  or  characters,  by  which  we  are 
enabled  to  dlstinu^uish  our  original  from  our  derivative 
cognitions,  may  ))u  reduced  to  tour  :  — 

1.  Their  Incoinjirehen.siblUf//.  When  wc  are  able 
to  comprehend  how  or  why  a  thing  is,  the  belief  of 
the  existence  of  that  thing  is  not  a  primary  datum  of 
consciousness,  but  a  subsum[)tion  under  the  cognition 
or  belief  which  affords  its  reason. 

2.  Their  Simi)l!cl(i/.  If  a  cognition  or  belief  bo 
made  up  of,  and  can  be  explicated  into,  a  plurality  of 
cognitions  or  Ijeliefs,  it  is  manifest  that,  as  compound, 
it  cannot  be  original. 

3.  Their  2^eceHsity  and  AhKohite  Universality/. 
These  may  be  regarded  as  coincident.  For  when  a 
belief  is  necessaiy,  it  is,  eo  ij)so,  universal ;  and  that 
a  belief  is  universal  is  a  certain  index  that  it  must  be 
necessary.  To  prove  the  necessity,  the  universality 
must,  however,  be  absolute  ;  for  a  relative  nniver- 
sality  indicates  no  more  than  custom  and  eductition, 
howbeit  the  subjects  themselves  may  deem  that  they 
follow  the  dictates  of  nature. 

4.  Their  Comparative  EviiJence  and  Certainty. 
This,  along  with  the  third,  is  well  stated  by  Aristotle  : 
"What  appearx  to  all,  that  we  atlirm  ^o />e,'  and  he 
who  rejects  this  belief  will  assuredl}'  advance  nothing 
better  dcservimj  of  credence."  {Reid's  WorJcs,  pp. 
754-r).) 

Thouijh  it  be  now  ijenerallv  aeknowlediifed,  bv  the 
profoiuulest  thinkers,  that  it  is  impossible  to  analyze 
all  our  knowledge  into  the  produce  of  experience,  ex- 
ternal or  internal,  and  that  a  certain  complement  of 
cognitions  nuist  l)e  allowed  as  having  their  oriuin  in 


srn  wlLUA^f  Hamilton's  rniLosopnr. 


165 


ve 
\'e 

l>lo 

of 

.of 

Llou 

[  bo 
y  of 
uiul, 

dihj' 
ion  a 
.  tliat 
ist  be 
rirtlity 
hiivcr- 
:itu)u» 
they 

\ain(y. 
.lotle  : 
iiu\  be 

pp. 

iby  the 
linulyze 
Ice,  ex- 
tent of 
l-iiiiu  in 


the  iititurc  of  the  thiiikini^  principle  itself;  they  are 
not  at  one  in  regtird  to  those  which  ought  to  be  rec- 
ognized as  ultimate  anil  elemental,  and  those  which 
ouffht  to  bo  regarded  as  modifications  or  combinations 
of  these.  The  reduction  of  our  native  cognitions  to 
system  is  therefore  a  pro]>lem  which  still  remains  to 
be  solved.  These  cognitions  are  founded  on  the  nec- 
essary conditions  of  thought ;  and  we  have  now  to 
sec  tliat  philosophers  have  failed  to  enumerate  all 
those  conditions.     {Lect.  on  Metaph.^  XXXVIII.) 

Now,  the  conditions  of  all  positive  thought  arc  two  : 
(1.)  yon-contmdidion  ;  (2.)  lielativifi/.  If  either  of 
these  conditions  be  violated,  thought  (employing  that 
term  as  comprehending  all  our  cognitive  energies)  is  not 
posit! >:e,  —  it  is  only  najdllvc;  for  thought  is  positive 
only  when  existence,  objective  or  subjective,  is  predi- 
cated of  an  object.  If  the  condition  of  Xon-contra- 
diction  be  not  fullilled,  there  emerges  The  rcaUy  im- 
posf^ibJc,  —  Xihil  purum;  if  that  of  IJelativit}'  be  not 
puritied,  there  results  TJie  Lnjjossihh  to  Thoiu/ht, — 
Nihil  cofjifabiie.  It  might  be  supposed  that  negative 
thinking,  being  a  negation  of  thought,  is  in  [)ropriety 
a  negation  therefore,  absolutdy,  of  all  mental  activity. 
But  this  would  be  erroneous.  In  fact,  as  Aristotle 
observes,  every  negation  involves  an  affirmation,  and 
wo  cannot  think  or  predicate  non-existence  except 
by  reference  to  existence.  Thus  even  negative  thought 
is  realized  only  under  the  condition  of  Kelativity  and 
positive  thinking.  For  example,  we  try  to  think,  —  to 
predicate  existence  in  some  way,  — but  tind  ourselves 
unable.     Wo  then  predicate  incvjitabiliti/ ;    and  if  we 


1 


I 


i 


"^vr 


Vi 


166 


Ay  OVTLISE   OF 


do  not  uhvjiys  prodiciitc,  as  un  equivalent,  (objective) 
non-existence,  we  shall  never  err. 

It  is  only,  then,  when  both  of  these  conditions  aro 
fuUillcd,  that  we  think  —  Something. 

§   1.    THE    COXDTTIOX  OF  NOX-COSTRADICTIOX. 

This  condition  is  insiipcnible.  We  think  it  not 
only  as  a  law  of  thought,  but  as  a  law  of  things  ;  and 
while  we  suppose  its  violation  to  determine  an  abso- 
lute impossibility,  Ave  suppose  its  fultilment  to  afford 
only  the  Xot-unj)ossible.  Thought  is,  under  this  con- 
dition, merely  exjilicative  or  analytic;  and  tiie  condi- 
tion itself  is  l)rought  to  bear  under  three  phases, 
constituting  three  laws:  (1.)  the  law  of  Identity; 
(2.)  the  law  of  Contradiction  (more  properly  Non- 
contradiction) ;  (3.)  the  law  of  Excluded  Middle 
(between  two  contradictories).^  The  science  of  these 
is  Logic;  and  as  the  laws  arc  only  explicative.  Logic 
is  onlyj^or>/^«?. 

Thouij:h  necessary  to  state  the  condition  of  Non-con- 
tradiction,  there  is  no  dispute  jibout  its  effect,  no  dan- 
ger of  its  violation.  When,  therefore,  I  speak  of  the 
Conditioned^  the  term  is  used  in  special  reference  to 
Kelativity.  By  existence  Conditioned  is  meant  em- 
phatically existence  relative,  —  existence  thought 
under  relation.  Relation  may  thus  be  understood  to 
contain  all  the  categories  and  forms  of  positive  thought. 
(^Discussions,  pp.  602-3.) 


'  For  a  full  discussion  of  these  laws  see  Led.  on  Log.,  V.  and  VI. 
and  Appendix  IV.  — J.  C.  M. 


sin    WILLIAM  RAMILTOS  S   PniLOSOPnY. 


167 


§  2.  THK  rnyrniTios'  of  itKLATiriTV. 


I 


By  this  comlilion  it  is  implit'd  that  the  mind  can 
coiH'oivo,  and  can  conscqnontly  know,  on!//  the  Vuiukd, 
and  fhc  co^tditionalli/  Juinfcil.  Tlio  unconditionally  un- 
limited, oi'  the  Infinite,  the  unconditionally  limited,  or 
XhaAhsohite,  caimot  positively  ho  construedtotho  mind  ; 
they  can  ho  conceived  only  hy  a  thinking  away  from, 
or  abstraction  of,  those  very  conditions  under  which 
thought  itself  is  realized :  conscHjuently  the  notion 
of  the  Unconditioned  is  only  negative,  —  negative  of 
the  c<mceival)lo  itself.     For  example:  — 

I.  On  the  one  hand,  "wc  can  positively  conceive 
iieithor  (1.)  an  absolute  whole,  that  is,  a  wludc  so 
great  that  wo  cannot  also  conceive  it  as  a  relative  part 
of  a  still  gi'cater  whole,  nor  (2.)  an  absolute  jxirt,  that 
is,  a  part  so  small  that  wo  cannot  also  conceive  it  as 
a  relative  whole,  divisible  into  smaller  parts. 

II.  On  the  other  hand,  wo  cannot  positively  repre- 
sent or  realize  or  construe  to  the  mind  (as  here  l.'^n- 
derstanding  and  Imagination  coincide),  (1.)  an  I'n- 
Jinife  ichole,  for  this  could  only  be  done  ])y  the  infinite 
synthesis  in  thought  of  Unite  wholes,  which  would  re- 
quire an  infinite  time  f(U'  its  accomplishment ;  nor  (2.), 
for  the  same  reason,  can  wc  follow  out  in  thought  an 
infinite  divisibiiiti/  o/jiorts. 

The  result  is  the  same  whether  wc  apjdy  the  pro- 
cess to  limitation  in  .s^;rtce,  in  fiine,  or  in  dc[iree.  The 
unconditional  negation  and  the  unconditional  affirma- 
tion of  limitation — in  other  words,  the  Infinite  and 
the  Absolute,  properly  so  called  —  arc   thus   equally 


U\i 


rffi 


f 


168 


/I.V   OVTLISE    OF 


I  :i 


'i-,\ 


i. 


inconcoivablc  to  us.  Tlic  coiulitloiiiilly  Hinitod  '  wliich 
"WO  may  briefly  cnll  the  Onidldoncd)  is  lliiiy  the  only 
p()ssil)lo  object  of  knonieilgc  aiul  of  posilive  tiioiii^^lit ; 
thought  neeessiii'ily  supposes  eoiKlition.  For  as  (he 
eagle  eaniiol  oulsoa.r  the  atuiospliere  in  which  he  lloats, 
and  hy  which  alone  he  is  supported  ;  so  the  tnind  can- 
not transcend  that  sphere  of  limitation  within  and 
through  ■which  exclusively  the  possibility  of  thought 
is  realized. 

The  Conditioned  is  the  mean  between  two  extremes, 
—  two  inconditionates,  exclusive  of  each  other,  nvitJier 
of  icliiili  cf'n  be  conceived  as 2)0sslblc,  but  of  which,  on 
the  principles  of  contradiction  and  excluded  middle, 
one  must  he  admitted  as  neccfimrt/.  Our  faculties  arc 
thus  shown  to  b(^  weak,  but  not  deceitful.  The  mind 
is  not  represented  as  conceiving  two  pro[)()sitions, 
subversive  of  each  other,  as  c<|ually  possible ;  but 
only  as  nnnble  to  understand,  as  possible,  either  of 
two  extr(Mnes,  one  of  which,  however,  on  the  ground 
of  their  mutual  repugnance,  it  is  compelled  to  recog- 
nize as  true.  AVe  are  thus  taught  the  salutary  lesson, 
that  the  capacity  of  thought  is  n(jt  to  be  constituted 
into  tlie  measure  of  existence  ;  and  ar(>  warned  from 
rccoirni/inii-  the  domain  of  our  knowledge  as  neeessa- 
rily  coextensive  with  the  horizon  of  our  faith.  And, 
by  a  wonderful  I'evelation,  avc  are  thus,  in  the  very 
consciousness  of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above 
tiie  relative  and  Ihiite,  inspired  with  a  belief  in  the 
existence  of  something  unconditioned  beyond  the 
sphere  of  all  reprehensible  reality.  (Discns.sions,  pp. 
i;3-l'..) 

The  condition  of  Relativity  is  therefore  not  insuper- 


sin  n'lLLiAM  ii.i.wiLTox's  p/iiLosornr. 


1G9 


pcr- 


iible.  Wc  shouM  lliiiik  it  not  as  sv  law  of  tilings,  but 
nioivly  as  u  law  of  tliouglit.  Thinking,  under  this 
condition,  is  ainjiliafii'c  or  s>/n(/t('t/c.  Its-  science, 
3It'f('j)/f>/.sic,  using  that  term  in  a  coniprehensivo  niean- 
ing,  is  tlierefore  mad'n'al,  in  the  sense  of  non-formal. 

The  relations  under  which  this  condition  is  brought 
to  bear  are  either  ncccs.vtri/  and  ori'jtnal,  or  confin- 
(/rnf  and  dcrirafirc.  The  latter  are  such  as  One  and 
Other,  Knd  and  ^lean,  AVhole  and  Part,  etc.,  etc. 
Kelations  like  these,  which  wc  fre(iuently  employ  in 
the  actual  applications  of  our  cognitive  energies,  ad- 
mit of  classilication  from  diflerent  points  of  view  ;  but 
to  attempt  their  arrangement  at  all,  far  less  on  any 
exclusive  principle,  would  horc  bo  manifestly  out  of 
place.  In  so  far,  then,  as  it  is  necessary,  the  condi- 
tion of  Ivclativity  is  brought  to  bear  under  two  prin- 
cipal relations  ;  the  one  springing  from  the  suhjrrt  of 
knowledge  {tlie  relation  of  Knoirlc'l'jc),  the  other  from 
the  ohject  of  knowledge  (the  I'elalions  of  Existence). 

(A)  The  Kklation  of  Kxowledok  is  that  which 
aris(>s  from  the  recii)rocal  dependence  of  the  sul)ject 
and  o])jeet  of  thought.  "Whatever  comes  into  con- 
sciousness is  thouirht  by  us  either  as  heloniriuL'"  to  the 
mental  self  exclusively  (suf/Jecfivo-suJjJccfirc),  or  as 
l)elonging  to  the  not-self  exclusively  {ohjedivo-ohjcc- 
tirr),  or  as  belonging  partly  to  both  {subjcdivo-ohjec- 
tive). 

(1>)  The  Relations  of  Existence  are  either  in- 
(riiisic  or  extrinsic. 

I.  The  intrinsic,  which  may  also  be  called  the  qnal- 
ilative,  relation  is  that  of  Substance  and  Quality 
(qutdity  being  variously  styled  forni^  accident,  prop- 


170 


AN  OUTLIXE   OF 


erf}/,  mode,  affection,  jihenomenon,  appearance,  attri- 
bute, predicate,  denomination,  etc.).  Substance  and 
Quality  arc  manifestly  oniy  thonght  as  mutual  rela- 
tives. 

1.  AVc  cannot  think  a  qualiti/  exiHinfj  ahfiohitchj,  in 
or  of  itself;  we  are  constrained  to  think  it  as  inhering 
in  some  basis,  substratum,  hypostasis,  subject,  or  sub- 
stance. 

2.  But  this  substance  cannot  be  conceived  by  us, 
except  negatively,  that  is,  as  the  miapparent, — the 
inconceivable  correlativ»^  of  certain  appearing  (juali- 
ties.  If  Ave  attempt  to  think  it  positively,  wo  can 
think  it  only  by  transforming  it  into  a  quality  or  bun- 
dle of  (jualities,  which,  again,  wo  arc  compi'lh'(l  to  re- 
fer to  an  unknown  substance,  now  necessarily  sup[)osed 
for  their  incogitable  basis. 

Everything  in  fact  may  bo  conceived  as  the  quality 
or  as  the  substance  of  something  else.  lUit  absolute 
substance  and  absolute  quality,  —  these  are  both  in- 
conce'.vable,  as  more  than  ncrations  of  the  conceiv- 
able. 

II.  Tiie  extrinsic  relation  of  existence  may  be  calliHl 
quaHfitatire,  and  is  threefold,  as  constituted  by  three 
species  of  (piautify, —  Time,  Space,  and  Dojree, 

i.    Time,  Protension,  or  Vrotensivc  (pKtntiti/,  called 
likewise  Duration,  is  a  necessary  conditionof  liiought. 
It  may  be  consitlered  both  (I.)  in  itself,  and  (2.)  iu 
the  things  which  it  contains. 
'  1 .  hi  itself,  _ 

(rt)  Time  is  positireJi/  inconccivahle ,  firsthf,  either, 
(it)  on  th(>  one  hand,  as  absolute,  that  is,  absolutely 
coinmenciiig  or  absolutely  terminating,  oi-  (,i)  on  tho 


Slii    WILLIAM  flAMILTOy  S    rillLOSOI'IIY. 


171 


uaVity 

ollltO 

U  in- 
nct'iv- 

Ihroc 

> 

(-'.)  ill 


filhcr, 
solutely 


other  liMiul,  as  hifinite  or  eternal,  Avhetlier  ab  ante  or 
a  post ;  it  is  no  less  ineonceivahle,  secondly,  if  we  at- 
tempt ('/)  to  fix  an  ahsoJute  niininuini  or  (,5)  to  fol- 
low (Hit  an  injiaitc  division, 

{h)  Time  is  positively  conceivable,  if  coneeiveil, 
Jlrs'ly,  as  an  indclinite  past,  present,  or  fntnre,  or,  sec- 
ondly, as  an  indeterminate  iiiean  between  the  two 
nnthinkahh  extremes  of  an  ahsolnte  least  and  an  infi- 
nite divisi'>:liiy  ;  for  thus  it  is  relative. 

2.  T/iin'/s  i)i  Time  are  either,  JirMly,  coinchisive, 
when,  {it)  if  of  the  same  time  they  are,  pro  tanto,  i<len- 
tieal  a[)parentlyand  in  thon<ji:ht,  (/>)  if  of  different  times 
(as  causes  antl  etl'eet,  caus<v  et  vunsatum),  they  appear 
as  different  but  are  thought  identical ;  or,  secondly, 
thev  are  cocxclusive,  when  they  are  nnitnallv  either 
pritn'  and  2>osterior  or  conlcniporancous,  Tlu»  impossi- 
hilify  of  thinking  as  non-existent  in  time  (either  past 
or  futuri')  aught  whieh  we  have  conceived  as  existent, 
affords  the  principle  <jf  Caus(dify,  etc' 

ii.  SjMue,  Extension,  or  Extensive  (piant it y  is,  in  like 
manner,  a  necessary  con<lifion  of  thought,  and  may 
also  he  considered  both  (1.)  in  itself  and  (:i.)  in  the 
tilings  which  it  contains. 

1 .    in  itself]  — 

(a)  S})U.ce  is  positively  inronceivtdtle,  jirstly,  as  a 
trfiolc,  either  («)  injinitehj  nnbounde(l  o;-  (,?)  absolntcly 
Itounded ;  secondly,  as  a  part,  eilhei-  ('/)  infinitely 
divisible  or  (,?)  absolutely  indivi>il)le. 

(//)    Space  is  positively* coaceicuble  as  a  mean  be- 

'  Sco  tills  itriiiiipK'  divtlDpid  in  tin.  ApiRiidix  to  this  Cimpter. — 
J.  V.  M. 


I 


Ii 


i 


I 


172 


AS   Ol'TLIXE    OF 


'H 


twcoii  these  nxtronios,  tlmt  is,  either  as  an  iiKlefmitc 
Avhole  or  as  an  iiidelinite  part ;  fc  thus  it  is  rela- 
tive. 

2.  The  fJii))(fs  in  Space  may  he  {-onsiderecl,  firstly, 
in  relation  to  Space  itvself,  when  the  extension  oceu- 
piecl  hy  a  thin<^  is  eaUed  its  jtlacc,  and  ji  thini;  ehaii"^- 
,  ing  its  phiee  gives  the  relation  of  motion.  Considered, 
secoiitUt/,  in  rehition  to  eaeh  other,  they  are  either  (a) 
incliisire,  thus  originating  tiie  itlation  of  a  jtainiii'j 
and  contained,  or  (h)  co('.fc7<<.s/rt',  thus  (K'lerniining  the 
I'elation  of  position  or  situation,  — of  here  and  there 
{  I'hication).  On  Space,  are  dei)en(k'nt  what  arc 
called  the  J*ri)i)ari/  (Qualities  of  hody,  strii-tly  so  de- 
nominated, and  Space  combined  with  Degrei'  allords, 
of  hody,  the  Secundo-priiiKU-)/  (Qualities.  Our  inahil- 
ity  to  conceive  an  ahsohite  elimination  fioni  s[)ac3  of 
aught  whicii  we  have  toneeived  to  occujw  space, 
gives  the  law  of  whal  I  hav(?  called  Ultimate  Incom- 
pressihilit//,  etc.' 

iii.  Detjree,  Intension,  or  Intensive  qiunditi/  is  not, 
like  Time  and  S|»ace,  an  absolute  condition  of  thought. 
It  may  therefon*  h(!  thought  as  null,  or  as  existing 
only  potentially.  But  thinking  il  to  he,  we  nuist 
think  it  as  a  (juantily  ;  ul,  as  a  i(uan(ity,  it  is  posi- 
tivel}-  both  inconceivable  and  conceivable. 

1.    In  itself,  — 

{a)  Degree  is  posit! veh/  inronceivaOlc,  (")  (d)sc.' 
lutc'l'/.  either  as  least  (U-  as  greatest,  (,i)  infnilcfi/, 
either  in  increase  or  iliuiinfltion  ;    but 

(6)    It  is  positively  conceivable,  in  so  far  as  it  is 


'  Soo  above,  Chap.  I.,  §  1.  (B).  —  J.  C.  M. 


SIJ^    WILLIAM  nA.VILTOy  S    PHILO-   >P11Y. 


173 


conceived  as  relative,  —  as  indefinitely  high  or  liiglicr, 
as  indefinitely  low  or  lower. 

2.  The  thi/tr/a  Uionrjlit  nndcr  De'jrce,  ((f)  if  of  the 
same  intension,  arc  correlatively  niiiforni;  (b)  if  of  a 
different  degree,  are  correlatively  higher  or  lower. 

Degree  is  develo|)ed  int(»  the  Secondary  (^naiities 
of  body,  and,  combined  with  Si)ace,  into  the  Seentuh- 
jjriiiiary  {lJiscHs,sionf<,  })}).  002— S.  (\)nipare  Lcct. 
OH  J/,  fdjjh.,  XXXVIII.)  (On  the  next  page  is  given 
a  tabniar  view  tif  the  above  conditions  of  thonght.) 


APPENDIX     TO     CIIAPTEll    VI. 


LAW     OF     Tin:     CONDITIOXFn     I\     ITS     AIM'LICATION    TO 

Tin:  riaNcirLK  of  (  aisality. 

To  manifest  the  utility  of  introducing  the  princi[)lc 
of  the  Conditioned  into  our  metaphysical  spec-dations, 
I  shall  (always  in  outline)  give  one  only,  but  that  a 
signal  illustration  of  its  imi)ortanco. 

Of  all  (juestions  in  the  history  of  philosoi)hy,  that 
concerninu:  the  origin  of  our  iudiriiient  of  (^lusc  ami 
Ejfcd  is  perhaps  the  most  celebrated  ;  but,  strange  to 
say,  there  is  not,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  to  b(>  found 
a  comprehensive  view  of  the  various  theorii's  proposed 
in  ex})lana1ion,  —  not  to  say,  among  these,  any  satis- 
facto-y  explanation  of  the  phenonnMion  itself. 

The  phenomenon  is  this:  When  aware  of  a  new 
appearance,  we  are  unable  to  conceive  that  therein 

'  Seo  tlio  prccciUtig  note.  —  J.  C.  >f . 


"ffl 


m 


AN  OVTLISE   OF 


I 

m 

St 

8 

N 

a 

m 

(• 

b) 

3  ^ 

w" 

i 

I 

( ■ 

ii 

IK 


!^T' 


I 


Sin    n'lLLlAM   HAMILTOS'S   VniLOSOP/lY. 


175 


has  origiiiiitcd  any  now  cxistonco,  and  an;  thereforo 
contifia/ned  to  think  tliat  what  now  appears  to  ns  under 
a  new  Ibnn,  had  previously  an  e\if*tcnec  under  others 
—  others  conceivitble  l)y  us  or  not.  The^e  other.-,  (for 
they  arc  al\»ay.s  phnal)  are  ealUd  its  cause;  and  a 
eause,  or  more  properly  causes,  we  cannot  hut  suppose  ; 
for  a  cause  ii>j  simply  everything  witho\it  wliicli  Iho 
cilect  would  not  result,  and  all  such  concurrinir,  the 
eilcct  cainiot  hut  result.  AVe  are  utterly  luiahle  to 
realize  in  thought  the  possibility  of  the  coniplcineut 
of  existence  ))einer  either  increased  or  diminished. 
A\'o  are  unable,  on  the  one  hand,  to  conceive  nothing 
becoming  sonieth'ng,  or,  on  the  other,  something  be- 
coming nothing.  When  God  is  said  to  create  out  of 
nothing,  we  construe  this  to  thought  by  sup[)osing 
that  ho  evolves  existence  out  of  nothing  l)ut  himself; 
and  in  like  manner  we  conceive  annihilation  only  by 
conceiving  the  Creator  to  withdraw  his  creation,  by 
withdrawinj;  his  creative  enerixv  from  actuality  into 
1)0  wer. 

"  Nil  1)0'=."'  crcari 

Dc  Niliilo.  notjuc  (piod  ),"'>'>'>  '■''t  "<'  ^'1  ri'vocari;  " 
"  (lijjni 

Do  Niliilu  Niliil.  in  Niliiliiin  Nil  jiosm'  rLvcrtl." 


■n 


i 


i! 


:iil 


!'■ ) 
:  Mi' 


These  lines  of  Lucretius  and  INrsius  enoni'.re  a  phys- 
ical axiom  of  anti([uity.  whii  h,  wlu-n  interpreted  by 
the  tloctrine  of  the  Conditioned,  i-,  itself  at  once  re- 
calUid  into  harmony  with  revcjdecl  truth,  and,  express- 
ing in  its  [)urest  foiin  the  conditions  of  lumian  thought, 
exi)resses  also  implicitly  the  whole  intclkctual  phe- 
nomenon of  causality. 

There  is  thus  conceived  au  absolute  taut'     _  •  faiN> 


if 


176 


Ay   OVTLISE    OF 


twcen  tlio  cn'cet  nnd  its  causes.  Wo  think  the  eaiises 
to  contain  all  that  is  conlainctl  in  the  eirect ;  the  ef- 
fect to  contain  nothinir  which  was  not  contained  in  the 
causes.  Take  an  example.  A  neutral  salt  is  an 
eflcct  of  the  conjunction  of  an  acid  and  an  alkali.  Hero 
we  do  not,  and  here  we  cainiot,  eonc(!ive  that,  in  ef- 
fect, any  new  existences  has  been  added,  nor  can  we 
conceive  that  any  has  been  taken  away.  Rut  another 
example  :  Gunpowder  is  the  elTect  of  a  mixture  of 
sulphur,  charcoal,  and  nitn^ ;  and  these  three  sub- 
stances jire  again  the  ellect  of  simpler  constiluents, 
and  these  constituents  again  of  sim[)U!r  elements,  either 
known  or  conceived  to  exist.  Now,  in  all  this  series 
of  compositions,  we  cannot  conceive  that  aught  begins 
to  exist.  The  gnni)owder,  the  last  compound,  we  avo 
compelled  to  think,  contains  precisely  the  same  quan- 
tum of  existence  that  its  ultimate  elements  contained 
prior  to  their  combination.  Well  ;  we  exj)lode  the 
powder.  Can  we  conceive  that  existence  has  been 
diminished  by  the  annihilation  of  a  sinirle  element 
previously  in  IxMiig,  or  increasinl  ))y  the  addition  of  a 
single  element  whicli  was  not  heretcjfore  in  nature? 
''Onmia  mutantm-;  nihil  interit,"'is  what  we  think, 
Avhat  we  must  think.  This,  then,  is  the  mental  phe- 
nomenon of  causality, -~  that  we  necessarilv  deny  in 
iltampflil  that  the  object,  which  ap[)ears  to  begin  to  be, 
really  so  ]>egins  ;  and  that  we  necessarily  i<lentify  its 
present  witli  Hs  past  existence.  Ilen^  it  is  not  reijui- 
site  that  we  should  know  under  what  form,  under 
what  '  (>ml)ination'-.  this  eyistence  was  previously 
realized  ;  in  other  w<»i*ds,  it  is  not  reijui^ite  that  we 
should  know  v/iiat  are  the  pariieular  causes  of  the  par- 


n 


Sn:    WILLIAM  ItAMILTUS'S    rJlILOSOP/lY. 


177 


auses 
ic  ef- 
in  the 
IB   nil 

Hero 

in  of- 
an  wo 
nolhcr 
lie  of 
e  sub- 

llUMllS, 

,  oitUer 
,  series 

l)Cgins 

we  :'»"C 

('  (JIKIU- 

[iitaiiie*! 
()(U'  the 
l)ceu 
Icment 
)n  of  a 
KitviroV 
•  think, 
li   \>he- 
th'iiy  in 
ii\  to  1h', 
Mitil'y  its 
»t  ro(ini- 
1,   ni\<h'r 
vvioiisly 
lh:\t  wo 
I  he  par- 


tieular  cllect.  Tliu  tliscovery  of  the  connection  of 
tletenuinate  causes  and  cletenninate  ellects  is  merely 
contingent  and  individual,  —  merely  the  datum  of 
experience  ;  hut  the  princii)lc  that  every  event  should 
have  its  causes  is  necessary  and  universal,  and  is  im- 
posed on  us  as  a  condition  of  our  human  inti'lliirencc 
itself.  This  necessity  of  so  tliinking  is  the  only  phe- 
nomenon to  be  explained. 

The  oi)ini()ns  in  regard  to  the  nalure  and  origin  of 
the  prin(,'i[)le  of  causality  fall  into  two  great  catego- 
ries. The  fn'st  category  (A)  compn'hends  those 
theories  which  consider  this  principk^  as  Empirical, 
or  ^/ /)o.syc;v'o/7' ,  that  is,  as  drrired from  experience;  Iho 
other  (li)  c(Jinprehends  tliose  which  \iew  it  as  I*ure, 
or  a  priori,  that  is,  as  a  condition  of  intellijcncc  if  self. 
These  two  [)rimary  genera  arc,  howevcu",  severally 
subdivided  into  various  subordinate  classes. 

The  former  category  (A),  under  which  this  princi- 
ple is  regarded  as  fhe  result  of  experience,  contains  (wo 
chh'^scs,  inasmuch  as  the  causal  judgment  may  be  sup- 
posed founded  either  (I.)  on  an  Orifjimd,  or  (II.)  on 
a  Derivative,  cognition.  Each  of  tliese  airain  is 
divided  into  two,  according  as  the  pi'inciple  is  sup- 
poseil  to  have  an  ohjcctivc,  or  a  suhjec(iv<',  origin.  In 
the  former  cast\  that  is,  Avhere  the  cognition  is  sup- 
posed to  he  original  and  nnderlved,  it  is  ()hjt;ctive,  or 
ratlK-r  Obieclivo-Objeetive  ;  when  held  to  consist  in 
an  inunedi  (fe  percej}(ion  of  the  power  or  cj)irac>i  <f 
causes  in  the  crfermd  and  intcrnid  worlds  (1.);  and 
Subjective,  or  rather  ( )bie(tivo-Si!bjective,  when 
viewed  as  given  in  a  self-consciousnesH  alone  of  the 
poirrr  or  ejfkcacy  of  our  oirn  voUlions  (2.).      In  the 


M*'- 


' 


178 


AX  orrusK  of 


hitter  case,  tliiit  is,  wlioro  the  oojriiitioii  is  supposed 
to  1)0  (l(M'ivative ;  if  ohjecfive,  it  is  viewed  ns  a  product 
of  Tiidudhn  and  flenernlhudion  (3.)  ;  if  sidtjpcflve^ 
of  Asft(}ci(tfion  and  Custom  (4.). 

Ill  like  iiiiimier,  the  liitter  catei^ory  (B),  under 
whieh  the  causal  principle  is  considered  not  as  a  re- 
sult. h\il  as  a  condition,  of  experience,  is  variously 
divid«!d  and  subdivided.  In  the  lirsl  place,  the  opin- 
ions under  this  eatei((»ry  fall  into  two  cfasscs,  inasnuich 
as  some  re^^ard  the  causal  Judirnicnt  (I.)  as  an  llti- 
mate  or  Primari/  law  of  mind,  while  others  re<:ard 
it  {W.)  i\i^  i\  Secondary  m' Derived.  Those  who  hold 
the  formei"  doctrine,  in  viewini;  it  as  a  simple  oriirinal 
principle,  hold  likewise  that  it  is  a  positive  act, — an 
allirmative  datum  of  intellii,'ence.  This  class  Is  linidly 
suhdivided  into  </ro  opinions.  For  some  hold  that  the 
cau>al  judirmeiit,  as  necessary,  is  ifiven  in  what  they 
call  "the  principle  of  Causalifi/,^^  that  is,  the  principle 
which  declares  tiad  evcnjthinij  which  linjins  to  he  must 
hare  its  cause  (a.)  ;  ^vhile  at  least  one  philosopher, 
without  exnlicillv  denvinir  that  tin;  causal  iu<Ii:inent 
is  necessary,  would  ithMitify  it  with  tlu;  principle  of 
our  "  E.rpertation  of  the  Constanci/  of  Nature  "  ((>.). 

Those  who  hold  that  it  can  he  analyzed  into  a  hiirher 
principle,  also  hold  that  it  is  not  of  a  positive,  l»nt  of 
a  ne;^ative,  character.  The»e,  however,  art^  divided 
into  two  classes.  l\v  some  it  has  heen  maintained, 
that  (he  principle  of  Causal  it//  can  he  rcsolrcd  i)do  the 
principh  if  Contradirtion  (".),  which,  as  I  formcM'ly 
stated,  oMirht  in  pr(^priety  to  he  called  the  i)rinci[)le 
of  \on-('ontradi(.'tion.  On  th(»  other  hand,  it  may  ho 
(though  it  never  has  been)  argued,  that  the  judijment 


SIR    niLLIAM   HAMILTOS  S    I'mLOHOI'llY. 


179 


of  Causdh'f)/  can  be  analf/::e(l  info  vliat  T  vnllptl  the 
priurqth-  of  the  Conditioned,  —  the  principle  of  relafiv- 
itif  {><.).  To  one  or  tlic  other  of  thoso  right  lioiuls 
nil  the  iloctrines  tliat  h.'ive  1)cen  actually  maintained 
in  rcLLard  to  the  origin  of  the  |)rin(ii)le  in  qncstion, 
may  he  rejerred  ;  and  the  elassilicalion  i'*  <he  better 
■\vorthv  of  vour  attention,  as  in  no  work  will  von  fmd 
any  aU<Mni)t  at  even  an  ennmeration  of  the  varions 
theories,  actnal  and  possible,  oji  this  snhjcct.  (Tho 
tahle  on  tin;  next  i)ago  ailb''ds  a  general  eonspeetus 
of  these  theories. ) 

An  adeijiiate  discussion  of  these  several  heads,  and 
a  special  consideration  (d'  the  dillerences  of  the  indi- 
vidual opinions  which  they  comprehend,  would  far 
exceed  our  limits.  I  shall,  therefore,  conlinc  myself 
to  a  few  ohsci'vations  on  the  value  of  these  (>ighl  doc- 
trines in  general,  without  descending  to  the  particular 
niodilications  under  which  thev  have  been  maintained 
hy  particular  philosophers. 

(A)  TllI-OKII-.S  WiriCII  DKRIVE  THE  CaUSAL  JuDG- 
SIKXT    TMOM    IvM'KUIKNCi:.       Of  tliesc, 

1.  The  lirst  two,  —  (1)  that  which  asserts  tJint  we 
hove  a  pcra'plion  ofcatisal  Of/encj/  as  ve  h">-c  a  ptrcep- 
tion  of  cxtcrmd  ohjeds;  and  (2.)  that  which  maintains 
thiU  we  are  scif-consrimis  if  rj/icirnri/, — have  Ikumi 
nlways  held  in  eomhiuation.  though  iUv.  second  has 
been  fi-e(|uently  held  by  philosophers  who  have  aban- 
doned thi'  lirst  as  untenable.  Considering  I  hem  to- 
gether, that  is,  as  forming  the  opinion  that  we  dji-cctly 
nnd  immediately  apprehend  tho  etliciency  of  causes, 
both  external  and  internal, — this  opiiii(»n  is  icfuted 
hy  two  objections.     'Jlic  lirst  is,  that  we  have  no  such 


f| ;...,! 


'!l 


ISO 


AN  OUTLIKE   OF 


o 

M 

m 

M 

e 

M 
M 


I 


H 

®  -J 

>5 

9  i 

H 

r   5 

:3 

o 

>    "3 

Q 

":  3 

t> 

It " 

•n 

s  1 

iJ 

'C     H 

< 

t    y 

CO 

^-^ 

U> 

^    i 

< 

U 

«i    a 

n 

II 

H 

O 

u 

a 
» 

I 
1 


■C    J?       O 


a 

r3 

s 

ta 
o 

a 


9 
1 


s    § 


a    a 


i3 


i 


1 


3 
3 

3 

a 

o 


it 

a 


9 


I 

a 


>  -2 


I 

I 


a 
to 


O  - 


o    o 

si 


&  'c> 


H 

M 

5 

•a 

CI 


-S  .2 

a  « 

a  g 

•3    o 


a 
.E  '3 


d    to 

rl  « 
o  ^  .2 
.        ♦J 

»  Tc  2 

C     3    i3 


s  a 

«"  a 
.  -a 


\ 


•g 

?  ?» 

8      - 

.»  ^ 

o 

SI 

BO 

8 

M 


J     §. 


M 


?  3 


■-     w      4> 


OS     & 


a 


•In. 


M      .2 

S       H 


'/3 


to 


.S7/;    Wll.I.I.Wf   /I.l\ffLTOX  S    I'lIILOSHH'llY. 


l«l 


apprclionsion  ;  the  socoml,  that  if  wo  had,  tliis  Ihmhu: 
lucrt'Iy  oin[)iri('iil,  incivly  convcrsaiil  \\'\{\\  indi- 
vidual iustaiioos,  could  never  account  for  llic  t|uality 
ot"  nci-essity  tmd  univcrsalit}'  which  accompanies  the 
ju<i;,'inent  ofcansalily. 

(rt)  F/'rsf  (jhjerfinn,  (1.)  as  ainnnst  the  Jirsl  theory. 
In  rej^aid  to  tho  llrst  of  tijose  ohjoctions,  it  is  now 
universally  adn»ille(l,  that  wo  have  no  poiveplion  of 
the  connoetion  of  cause  and  elfi'd  in  the  external 
world.  For  example  ;  when  one  billiard-hall  is  seen 
to  strike  another,  we  perceive  oidy  that  the  impulse  of 
the  one  is  followed  i)y  the  motion  of  tin-  other,  hiit  have 
uo  i)erception  of  any  forces  or  etliciency  in  the  first, 
by  which  it  is  connected  with  the  second,  i:^  the  nda- 
tion  of  causality.  Hunu'  was  the  philosopher  who 
decided  the  opinion  of  the  world  on  this  [)oint.  He 
was  not,  Innvever,  tiie  lirst  who  stated  the  fact,  or 
even  the  reasoner  who  stated  it  most  clearlv.  I  could 
adduce  a  whoh;  army  of  [)hilos()phers  previous  to 
Hume  who  had  announced  and  illustrated  the  fact. 

/'7/-.S/  ohjecfiott,  {'2.)  as  ayainst  the  seratal  fheort/. 
There  are  many  [)hil()sophers  who  surrender  the  I'xter- 
iial  perception,  and  maintain  our  internal  conscious- 
ness, of  causation  or  power.  This  (>[)inion  was,  in 
one  chapter  of  his  Essai/,  advanced  l)y  Locke,  and,  at 
a  very  recent  (hite,  it  has  been  amplilicd  and  enforced 
with  distinLTiiished  ability  by  the  lat(^  M.  Maine  <le 
lliran,  one  of  the  acutcst  nieta[)hysii'ians  of  France. 
On  this  doctrine,  the  notion  of  cause  is  not  given  to 
us  by  the  observations  of  external  phenomena,  which, 
as  considered  only  by  the  senses,  manifest  no  causal 
etficiency,  and  a[>pear  to  us  only  as  successive  ;   it  is 


h 


^ 


■M 


w. 


%^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


•-  IIIIIM 


IIIM 

12.2 

1.8 


1-4    ill  1.6 


V] 


<^ 


//. 


^l 


'a 


c^. 


c?1 


m> 


'm     i. 


>;' 


<p5 


m 


i* 


^ 


O 


^ 


VM 


/A 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


<F 


iV 


iV 


o 


^^ 


%\? 


^ 


6^ 


Ky\.  <^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  M580 

(716)  872-4503 


^ 


182 


AN  OUTLINE    OF 


given  to  us  within,  in  reflection,  in  the  consciousness 
of  our  operations  and  of  the  power  which  exerts  them, 
—  namely,  the  will.  I  make  an  effort  to  move  my 
arm,  and  I  move  it.  V/hen  we  analyze  attentively 
the  phenomenon  of  effort,  which  M.  de  Biran  considers 
as  the  type  of  the  phenomena  of  volition,  the  follow- 
ing are  the  results  :  1° ,  The  consciousness  of  an 
act  of  will ;  2°,  The  consciousness  of  a  motion  pro- 
duced ;  3'^,  A  relation  of  the  motion  to  the  volition. 
And  what  is  this  relation?  Not  a  simple  relation  of 
succession.  The  will  is  not  for  us  a  pure  act  without 
efficiency,  —  it  is  a  productive  cnerg}' ;  so  that,  in  a 
voli':ion,  there  is  given  to  us  the  notion  of  cause  ;  and 
this  notion  we  subsequently  project  out  from  our  in- 
ternal activities,  into  the  changes  of  the  external 
world. 

This  reasoning,  in  so  far  as  regards  the  mere  empir- 
ical fact  of  our  consciousness  of  causality,  in  the  rela- 
tion of  our  will  as  moving,  and  of  our  limbs  as  moved, 
is  refuted  by  the  consideration,  that  between  the  overt 
fact  of  corporeal  movement  of  which  we  are  cognizant, 
and  the  internal  act  of  mental  determination  of  which 
we  are  also  cognizant,  there  intervenes  a  numerous 
series  of  intermediate  agencies  of  which  we  have  no 
knowledge;  and,  consequently,  that  we  can  have  no 
consciousness  of  any  causal  connection  between  the 
extreme  links  of  this  chain,  —  the  volition  to  move 
and  the  limb  moving,  as  this  hypothesis  asserts.  No 
one  is  immediately  conscious,  for  example,  of  moving 
his  arm  through  his  volition.  Previously  to  this  ulti- 
mate movement,  muscles,  nerves,  a  multitude  of  solid 
and  fluid  parts,  must  be  set  in  motion  by  the  will ; 


Srn    WILLIAM  HAMILTOy'S   PniLOSOPHY. 


183 


isness 

them, 

vc,  my 

itively 

isiders 

Follow- 

of  an 
)n  pro- 
olition. 
tion  of 
^vithout 
at,  in  a 
36 ;  and 

our  in- 
3xtcrnal 

J  empir- 
he  rcla- 
nioved, 
ho  overt 
jxuizant, 
3f  which 
umerous 
lave  no 
have  no 
.'ccn  tlie 
to  move 
rts.     No 
moving 
this  ulti- 
>  of  solid 
the  will ; 


but  of  this  motion  we  know,  from  consciousness,  abso- 
lutely nothing.  A  person  struck  with  paralysis  is 
conscious  of  no  inability  in  his  limb  to  fulfil  the  de- 
terminations of  his  will ;  and  it  is  only  after  having 
willed,  and  finding  that  his  limbs  do  not  obey  his  vo- 
lition, that  ho  learns  by  his  experience,  that  the  exter- 
nal movement  does  not  follow  the  internal  act.  But 
as  the  paralytic  learns  after  the  volition  that  his  limbs 
do  not  obey  his  mind  ;  so  it  is  only  after  volition  that 
the  man  in  health  learns  that  his  limbs  do  obey  the 
mandates  of  his  will. 

(h)  The  Second  Ohjection^  mentioned  above,  is 
fatal  to  the  theory  which  would  found  the  judgment 
of  causality  on  any  empirical  cognition,  whether  of 
the  phenomena  of  mind  or  of  the  phenomena  of  nuit- 
tcr.  Admittinir  that  causation  were  conrnizablc,  and 
that  perception  and  self-consciousness  were  competent 
to  its  apprehension,  still,  as  these  faculties  could  only 
take  note  of  individual  causations,  we  should  be 
wholly  unable,  out  of  such  empirical  acts,  to  evolve 
the  quality  of  necessity  and  universality,  hy  which 
this  notion  is  distinsruishcd.  Admitting?  that  we  had 
really  observed  the  agency  of  any  number  of  causes, 
still  this  would  not  explain  to  us  how  we  are  unable 
to  think  a  manifestation  of  existence  without  thinking 
it  as  an  effect.  Our  internal  experience,  especially 
in  the  relation  of  our  volitions  to  their  efiocts,  may  be 
useful  in  giving  us  a  clearer  notion  of  causality ;  but 
it  is  altogether  incompetent  to  account  for  what  in  it 
there  is  of  the  quality  of  necessity. 

II.    As  the  first  and   second   opinions  have  been 
usually  associated,  so  also  have  the  third  find  fourth ; 


PI 


184 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


li 

I  -.i.U  , 


that  is,  tliG  doctrine  that  our  notion  of  causality  is  the 
offspring  of  the  objective  principle  of  Induction  or  Gen- 
eralization^ and  the  doctrine  tJiat  it  is  the  offspring  of 
the  subjective  principle  of  Association  or  Custom. 

3.  In  regard  to  the  former,  it  is  plain  that  the  ob- 
servation that  certain  phenomena  are  found  to  succeed 
certain  other  phenomena,  and  the  generalization  con- 
sequent thereon,  that  these  are  reciprocally  causes  and 
effects,  could  never  of  itself  have  engendered,  not 
only  the  strong,  but  the  irresistible  belief,  that  every 
event  must  have  its  cause.  Each  of  these  observa- 
tions is  contingent ;  and  any  number  of  observed  con- 
tingencies will  never  impose  upon  us  the  feeling  of 
necessity,  —  of  our  inability  to  think  the  opposite. 
Nay,  more,  this  theory  evolves  the  absolute  notion 
of  causality  out  of  the  observation  of  a  certain  number 
of  uniform  consecutions  among  phenomena  ;  that  is, 
it  would  collect  that  all  must  be,  because  some  are. 
But  w^c  find  no  diflSculty  whatever  in  conceiving  the 
reverse  of  all  or  any  of  the  consecutions  we  have  ob- 
served ;  and  yet  the  general  notion  of  causality, 
which,  ex  hypothesi,  is  their  result,  avc  cannot  possibly 
think  as  possibly  unreal.  We  have  always  seen  a 
stone  fall  to  the  ground  when  thrown  into  the  air ; 
but  we  find  no  difficulty  in  representing  to  ourselves 
the  possibility  of  one  or  all  stones  gravitating  from 
the  earth ;  only  Ave  cannot  conceive  the  possibility 
of  this,  or  any  other  event,  happening  without  a 
cause. 

4.  Nor  does  the  latter  afford  a  better  solution. 
The  necessity  of  so  thinking  cannot  be  derived  from  a 
custom  of  so  thinking.     Allow  the  force  of  custom  to 


sin  WILLIAM  HAMILTON  s  pniLOsopnr. 


185 


be  great  as  may  be,  still  it  is  always  limited  to  the 
customary ;  and  the  customary  has  nothing  whatever 
in  it  of  the  necessary.  But  we  have  here  to  account 
not  for  a  strong,  but ybr  an  absolutely  irresistible  belief. 
On  this  theory,  also,  the  causal  judgment,  when  asso- 
ciation is  recent,  should  be  weak,  and  should  only 
gradually  acquire  its  full  force  in  proportion  as  cus- 
tom becomes  inveterate.  But  do  we  find  that  the 
causal  judgment  is  weaker  in  the  young,  stronger  in 
the  old?  There  is  no  difference.  In  either  case, 
there  is  no  less  and  no  more ;  the  necessity  in  both  is 
absolute. 

(B)  Theories  which  maintain  the  Causal  Judg- 
ment TO  BE  a  Deliverance  of  Intelligence.  Of 
the  four  opinions  comprised  under  this  category, 

I.  The  first  two  agree  in  holding  that  the  causal 
judgment  may  ])e  identified  with  a  primary  intellec- 
tual principle. 

5.  Of  these,  the  first  (the  fifth  in  general)  main- 
tains that  this  principle  is  necessary,  making  its  rejec- 
tion in  thought  impossible.  To  this  are  to  be  referred 
the  relative  theories  of  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  Karnes, 
Reid,  Kant,  Fichte,  Bouterweck,  Jacobi,  Stewart, 
Cousin,  and  the  majority  of  modern  philosophers. 
Now,  without  descending  into  details,  it  is  manifest 
in  general,  that  against  the  assumption  of  a  special 
principle,  which  this  doctrine  makes,  there  exists  a 
primary  presumption  of  philosophy.  This  is  the  Law 
of  Parcimony,  which  forbids,  without  necessity,  the 
multiplication  of  entities,  powers,  principles,  or 
causes ;  above  all,  the  postulation  of  an  unknown 
force  where  a  known  impotence  can  account  for  the 


186 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


phenomenon.  Wc  arc,  therefore,  entitled  to  apply 
Occam's  razor  to  this  theory  of  causality,  unless  it  be 
proved  impossible  to  explain  the  causal  judgment  at 
a  cheaper  rate,  by  deriving  it  from  a  higher,  and  that 
a  negative,  origin.  On  a  doctrine  like  the  present  is 
thrown  the  onus  of  vindicating  its  necessity,  by  show- 
ing that,  unless  a  special  and  positive  principle  be 
assumed,  there  exists  no  competent  mode  to  save  the 
phenomena.  It  can  only,  therefore,  be  admitted  pro- 
visorily  ;  and  it  falls  of  course,  if  the  phenomenon  it 
"would  explain  can  ho  explained  on  less  onerous  condi- 
tions. Leaving,  therefore,  this  theory,  which  cer- 
tainly does  account  for  the  phenomenon,  to  fall  or 
stand,  according  as  either  of  the  two  last  opinions  be, 
or  be  not,  found  sufficient,  I  go  on  to  that  preceding 
these. 

6.  Dr.  Brown  has  promulgated  a  doctrine  of  Caus- 
ality, which  may  be  numbered  as  the  sixth ;  though 
perhaps  it  is  hardly  deserving  of  distinct  enumeration. 
He  actually  identifies  the  causal  judgment,  which  to 
us  is  necessary,  with  the  principle  by  which  Ave  are 
merchj  inclined  to  believe  in  the  uniformity  of  nature's 
operations.  But  apart  from  all  subordinate  objec- 
tions, it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  phenomenon  to  be 
explained  is  the  necessity  of  thinking,  —  the  absolute 
impossibility  of  not  thinking,  —  a  cause ;  whilst  all 
that  the  latter  pretends  to  is,  to  incline  us  to  expect 
that  like  antecedents  will  be  followed  by  like  conse- 
quents. This  necessity  to  suppose  a  cause  for  every 
phenomenon,  Dr.  Brown,  if  he  does  not  expressly 
deny,  keeps  cautiously  out  of  view,  virtually,  in  fact, 


SIR   WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S  PniLOSOPHY. 


187 


eliminating  all  that  requires  explanation  in  the  prob- 
lem. 

II.  The  two  remaining  theories  agree  with  the  fifth 
and  sixth  in  regarding  the  causal  judgment  as  oi  a  pn- 
on  origin,  but  differ  from  them  in  viewing  it  as  deriV' 
ative  and  secondary.     Of  these  two  theories, 

7.  The  first  attempts  to  establish  the  principle  of 
Causality  upon  the  principle  of  Contradiction.  Listen 
to  the  pretended  demonstration  :  Whatever  is  produced 
without  a  cause,  is  produced  by  nothing,  in  other 
words,  has  nothing  for  its  cause.  But  nothing  can  no 
more  be  a  cause  than  it  can  be  something.  The  same 
intuition,  which  makes  us  aware  that  nothing  is  not 
something,  shows  us  that  everything  must  have  a  real 
cause  of  its  existence.  To  this  it  is  sufficient  to  say, 
that  the  existence  of  causes  being  the  point  in  ques- 
tion, the  existence  of  causes  must  not  be  taken  for 
granted  in  the  very  reasoning  which  attempts  to  prove 
their  reality.  In  cr.cluding  causes,  we  exclude  all 
causes ;  and  consequently  exclude  "  nothing "  con- 
sidered as  a  cause ;  it  is  not,  therefore,  allowable, 
contrary  to  that  exclusion,  to  suppose  ^* nothing"  as  a 
cause,  and  then  from  the  absurdity  of  that  supposition 
to  infer  the  absurdity  of  the  exclusion  itself.  If  every- 
thing must  have  a  cause,  it  follows  that,  upon  the  ex- 
clusion of  other  causes,  we  must  accept  of  nothing  as 
a  cause.  But  it  is  the  very  point  at  issue,  whether 
everything  must  have  a  cause  or  not ;  and,  therefore, 
it  violates  the  first  principles  of  reasoning  to  take  this 
qufEsitum  itself  as  granted.  This  opinion  is  now  uni- 
versally abandoned. 

8.  The  eighth  and  last  opinion  is  that  which  re- 


188 


Ay  OUTLINE   OF 


fi 


1 1  ji-: 


il'i: 


III-' 


ft! 
■  I 


gards  the  jiitlgraciit  of  causality  as  derived ;  and 
derives  it  not  from  a  power,  but  from  an  impotence, 
of  mind ;  iu  a  word,  from  the  principle  of  the  Con- 
ditioned. I  do  not  think  it  possible,  without  a  de- 
tailed exposition  of  the  various  categories  of  thought, 
to  make  you  fully  understand  the  grounds  and  bear- 
ings of  this  opinion.  In  attempting  to  explain,  j'ou 
must,  therefore,  allow  me  to  take  for  granted  certain 
laws  of  thought,  to  which  I  have  only  been  able  inci- 
dentally to  allude.  Those,  however,  which  I  postu- 
late, are  such  as  are  now  generally  admitted  by  all 
philosophers  who  allow  the  mind  itself  to  be  a  source 
of  cognitions ;  and  the  only  one  which  has  not  been 
recognized  by  them,  but  which,  as  I  endeavored 
Ijriefly  to  prove,  must  likewise  be  taken  into  account, 
is  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned,  that  the  conceivable  has 
always  two  opposite  extremes,  and  that  the  extremes  are 
equally  inconceivable. 

Philosophers,  who  allow  a  native  principle  to  the 
mind  at  all,  allow  that  Existence  is  such  a  principle. 
I  shall,  therefore,  take  for  granted  Existence  as  the 
highest  category  or  condition  of  thought.  All  that 
we  i)erceive  or  imagine  as  different  from  us,  we  per- 
ceive or  imagine  as  objectively  existent.  All  that 
we  are  conscious  of  as  an  act  or  modification  of  self, 
we  arc  conscious  of  only  as  subjectively  existent.  All 
thought,  therefore,  implies  the  thought  of  existence. 
As  a  second  category  or  subjective  condition  of 
thought,  I  postulate  that  of  Time.  This  likewise 
cannot  be  denied  me.  It  is  the  necessary  condition 
of  every  conscious  act ;  thought  is  only  realized  to  us 
as  in  succession,  and  succession  is  ojily  conceived  by 


sin    WILLIAM  nAMILTOy'S   rniLOSOPTIY. 


189 


;    and 
tence, 
!  Con- 
L  a  de- 
ought, 
1  bcar- 
11,  you 
certain 
Ic  inci- 
postu- 
by  all 
source 
ot  been 
savored 
ccount, 
lUe  has 
mes  are 

to  the 
•inciple. 

as  the 

lA.ll  that 

we  per- 

Ul  that 

of  self, 
nt.    All 

istence. 
ition  of 
likewise 
ondition 
;cd  to  lis 
jived  by 


us  under  the  concept  of  time.  Existence  and  Exist- 
ence in  Time  is  thus  an  elementary  form  of  our  intel- 
ligence. But  Ave  do  not  conceive  existence  in  time 
absolutely  or  infinitely,  — we  conceive  it  only  as  con- 
ditioned in  time;  and  Existence  Conditioned  in  Time 
expresses,  at  once  and  in  relation,  the  three  categories 
of  thought  Avhich  afford  us  in  combination  the  princi- 
ple of  Causality.     This  requires  some  explanation. 

When  we  perceive  or  imagine  an  object,  we  per- 
ceive or  imagine  it  (1.)  As  existent,  and  (2.)  As  in 
Time ;  Existence  and  Time  being  categories  of  all 
thought.  But  what  is  meant  by  saying,  I  perceive, 
or  imagine,  or,  in  general,  think  an  object  only  as  I 
perceive,  or  imagine,  or,  in  general,  think  it  to  exist? 
Simply  this  :  that,  as  thinking  it,  I  cannot  but  thmk 
it  to  exist,  in  other  words,  that  I  cannot  annihilate  it 
in  thought.  I  may  think  away  from  it,  I  may  turn 
to  other  things,  and  I  can  thus  exclude  it  from  my 
consciousness ;  but,  actually  thinking  it,  I  cannot 
think  it  as  non-existent,  for  as  it  is  thought,  so  it  is 
thouijht  existent. 

But  a  thing  is  thought  to  exist,  only  as  it  is  thought 
to  exist  in  time.  Time  is  present,  past,  and  future. 
"We  cannot  think  an  oljject  of  thought  as  non-existent 
depresenti.  But  can  we  think  that  quantum  of  exist- 
ence of  which  an  object,  real  or  ideal,  is  the  comple- 
ment, as  non-existent,  either  in  time  past,  or  in  time 
future?  Make  the  experiment.  Try  to  think  the  ob- 
ject of  your  thought  as  non-existent  in  the  moment 
before  the  present.  You  cannot.  Try  it  in  the  mo- 
ment before  that.  You  cannot.  Nor  can  you  annihi- 
late it  by  carrying  it  back  to  any  moment,  however 


190 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  HAMILTON  S  PniLOSOPHY. 


w& 


distant  ill  the  past.  You  may  conceive  the  parts  of 
which  this  complement  of  existence  is  composed,  as 
separated ;  if  a  material  object,  you  can  think  it  as 
shivered  to  atoms,  sublimated  into  ether;  but  not 
one  iota  of  existence  can  you  conceive  as  annihilated, 
which  subsequently  you  thought  to  exist.  In  like 
manner,  try  the  future,  —  try  to  conceive  the  prospec- 
tive annihilation  of  any  present  object,  of  any  atom 
of  any  present  object.  You  cannot.  All  this  may  bo 
possible,  but  of  it  we  cannot  think  the  possibility. 
But  if  you  can  thus  conceive  neither  the  absolute  com- 
mencement nor  the  absolute  termination  of  anything 
that  is  once  thought  to  exist,  try,  on  the  other  hand, 
if  you  can  conceive  the  opposite  alternative  of  infinite 
non-commencement,  or  of  infinite  non-termination. 
To  this  you  are  equally  impotent.  This  is  the  cate- 
gory of  the  Conditioned  as  applied  to  the  category  of 
Existence  under  the  category  of  Time. 

But  in  this  application  is  the  principle  of  Causality 
not  given  ?  Why,  what  is  the  law  of  Causality  ?  Sim- 
ply this,  —  that,  when  an  object  is  presented  phenom- 
enally as  commencing,  we  cannot  but  suppose  that 
the  complement  of  existence,  which  it  now  con- 
tains, has  previously  been ;  in  other  words,  that  all 
that  we  at  present  come  to  know  as  an  effect  must 
previously  have  existed  in  its  causes ;  though  what 
these  causes  are,  we  may  perhaps  be  altogether  un- 
able even  to  surmise.  (^Lect.  on  Metaph,,  XXXIX., 
and  Discussions^  pp.  609-622.  Compare  also  Lect. 
on  MetapJi.y  XL.) 


' 


;!h 


ill 


SECOND  PART  OF  PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


PHENOMENOLOQT  OF  THE  FEELINQS. 


If: 


it;  m 


-  ( 


SECOND   PART  OF  PHENOMENAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 


PIIENOiMENOLOGY  OF  THE  FEELINGS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


In  entering  on  the  second  grcjil  class  or*  mental 
phenomena,  there  is  a  preliminary  qnestion  tu  be  dis- 
posed of:  What  is  the  position  of  the  Feelings  by 
reference  to  the  two  other  classes ;  and,  in  particular, 
should  the  consideration  of  the  Feelings  precede  or 
follow  that  of  the  Conations  ? 

To  resolve  this  problem  let  us  take  an  example. 
A  j)erson  is  fond  of  cards.  In  a  company,  where  ho 
beholds  a  game  in  progress,  there  arises  a  desire  to 
join  in  it.  Now,  the  desire  is  hero  manifestly  kin- 
dled by  the  pleasure  which  the  person  had  and  has 
in  the  play.  Tlie  feeling  thus  connects  the  cognition 
of  the  play  with  the  desire  to  join  in  it ;  it  forms  the 
bridge,  and  contains  the  motive,  by  which  we  are 
roused  from  mere  knowledge  lo  appetency,  —  to  co- 
nation, by  reference  to  which  we  move  ourselves  so 
as  to  attain  the  end  in  view. 

Thus  we  find,  in  actual  life,  the  Feelings  interme- 
diate between  the  Coojnitious  and  the  Conations.    And 


Li 


) 


13 


198 


194 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  HAMILTON'S  PHILOSOPHY. 


this  relative  position  ol  the  several  powers  is  neces- 
sary :  without  the  previous  cognition,  there  could  be 
neither  feeling  nor  conation  ;  and  without  the  previ- 
ous feeling  there  could  be  no  conation.  For  if  the 
mere  cognition  of  a  thing  were  sufficient  to  rouse  co- 
nation, then  it  is  evident  (1.)  that  all  objects,  known 
in  the  same  manner  and  in  the  same  degree,  would 
become  equally  the  objects  of  desire  and  will ;  while 
(2.)  all  persons  would  desire  an  object  equally,  as 
long  as  their  cognition  of  the  object  remained  the 
same. 

Our  conclusion,  therefore,  is,  that  as  in  our  actual 
existence  the  feelings  find  their  place  after  the  cogni- 
tions and  before  the  conations,  so  in  the  science  of 
mind  the  theory  of  the  feelings  ought  to  follow  that 
of  our  faculties  of  knowledge,  and  to  precede  that  of 
our  faculties  of  will  and  desire. 


''■y 


neces- 
uld  be 
previ- 
L-  if  the 
luse  co- 
known 
,  would 
;   while 
ally,  as 
ned  the 

ir  actual 
le  cogni- 
lience  of 
How  that 
»  that  of 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  FEELINGS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

ABSTRACT  THEORY  OF  PLEASURE   AND  PAIN. 

I  PROCEED  to  deliver  the  theory  of  pleasure  and 
pain. 

I.  Mau  exists  only  as  he  lives ;  as  an  intelligent 
and  sensible  being,  he  consciously  lives,  but  this  only 
as  he  consciously  energizes.  Human  existence  is  only 
a  more  general  expression  for  human  life,  and  human 
life  only  a  more  general  expression  for  the  sum  of 
energies  in  which  that  life  is  realized,  and  through 
which  it  is  manifested  in  consciousness. 

Observation.  The  term  energy  is  here  used  to  com- 
prehend all  the  mixed  states  of  action  and  passion  of 
which  we  are  conscious. 

n.  Human  existence,  human  life,  human  energy, 
is  not  unlimited,  but  on  the  contrary  determined  to  a 
certain  number  of  modes,  through  which  alone  it  can 
possibly  be  exerted.  These  different  modes  of  action 
are  called,  in  diflferent  relations,  ^ou;er5,  faculties^  ca- 
pacities^ dispositions^  habits. 

ni.  Man,  as  he  consciously  exists,  is  the  subject 
of  pleasure  and  pain ;   and  these  of  various  kinds ; 

196 


im 


AN  OUTLINE    OF 


M 


m 


iiii 


but  as  man  consciously  exists  in  and  through  tho 
exertion  of  certain  determinate  poAvers,  so  it  is  only 
through  the  exertion  of  these  powers  that  he  becomes 
the  subject  of  pleasure  and  pain ;  each  power  being 
in  itself  at  once  the  foculty  of  a  specific  energy,  and 
a  capacity  of  an  appropriate  pleasure  or  pain,  as  tho 
concomitant  of  that  energy. 

IV.  The  energy  of  each  power  of  conscious  exist- 
ence having,  as  its  reflex  or  concomitant,  an  appro- 
priate pleasure  or  pain,  and  no  pleasure  or  pain  being 
competent  to  man,  except  as  .the  concomitant  of  some 
determinate  energy  of  life,  the  all-important  question 
arises :  What  is  the  general  law  under  which  these 
counter-phenomena  appear  in  all  their  special  mani- 
festations ? 

V.  The  answer  to  this  question  is :  the  more 
perfect,  the  more  pleasurable,  the  energy ;  the  more 
imperfect,  the  more  painful. 

VI.  The  perfection  of  an  energy  is  twofold  :  (1.) 
subjective,  by  relation  to  the  power  of  which  it  is  tho 
exertion;  (2.)  objective,  by  relation  to  the  object 
about  which  it  is  conversant. 

VII.  (1.)  JB>j  relation  to  its  power,  an  energy  is 
perfect,  when  it  is  tantamount  (a)  to  the  full,  and  (&) 
not  to  more  than  the  full,  complement  of  free  and 
spontaneous  energy  which  the  power  is  capable  of 
exerting ;  an  energy  is  imperfect,  either  (a)  when 
the  power  is  restrained  from  putting  forth  the  whole 
amount  of  energy  it  would  otherwise  tend  to  do,  or 
(b)  when  it  is  stimulated  to  put  forth  a  larger  amount 
than  that  to  which  it  is  spontaneously  disposed. 

The  amount  of  energy  in  the  case  of  a  single  power 


sin  WILLIAM  Hamilton's  philosophy. 


197 


jh  tho 
s  only 
icomes 
■  being 
y,  and 
as  tho 

3  exist- 
appro- 
11  being 
•f  some 
nestion 
li  these 
I  mani- 

c   more 
10  more 

1:    (1.) 
it  is  tho 

!   object 

ncrgy  is 

and  (&) 
free  and 
)able  of 
<x)  when 
10  whole 

0  do,  or 
L-  amount 

A. 

le  power 


is  of  two  kinds,  (a)  intensive^  {h)  protensive.  A  per- 
fect energy  is,  therefore,  that  which  is  evolved  by  a 
power,  both  in  the  degree  and  for  tho  continuance  to 
which  it  is>  competent  without  straining ;  an  imperfect 
energy,  that  which  is  evolved  by  a  power  in  a  lower 
or  in  a  higlier  degree,  for  a  shorter  or  for  a  longer  con- 
tinuance than,  if  left  to  itself,  it  would  freely  ex- 
ert. 

When  we  look  to  complex  states  in  which  ^plurality 
of  powers  may  be  simultaneously  called  into  action, 
we  have,  besides  («)  the  intensive  and  (Jj)  protensive 
quantities  of  energy,  (c)  a  third  kind,  to  wit,  the  ex- 
tensive quantity.  A  state  is  said  to  contain  a  greater 
amount  of  extensive  energy,  in  proportion  as  it  forms 
the  complement  of  a  greater  number  of  simultaneously 
co-operating  powers.  This  complement,  it  is  evident, 
may  be  conceived  as  made  up  either  of  energies  all 
intensively  and  protensively  perfect  and  pleasurable  ; 
or  of  energies  all  intensively  and  protensively  imper- 
fect and  painful ;  or  of  energies  partly  perfect,  partly 
imperfect ;  and  this  in  every  combination  afforded  by 
the  various  perfections  and  imperfections  of  the  inten- 
sive and  proteJisive  quantities. 

It  may  be  here  noticed  that  the  intensive  and  the 
two  other  quantities  stand  always  in  an  inverse  ratio  to 
each  other;  that  is,  the  higher  the  degree  of  any  en- 
ergy, the  shorter  is  its  conrinnanco,  and,  during  its 
continuance,  the  more  completely  does  it  constitute 
the  whole  mental  state. 

VIII.  (2.)  By  relation  to  the  object  about  which  it 
is  conversant  (and  by  object  is  hero  deno'-ed  every 
objective  cause  by  which  a  power  is  determined  to 


m,w^ 


198 


A^  OUTLINE   or 


i'3 


:lii« 


activity) ,  an  energy  is  perfect,  when  this  object  is  of 
such  a  character  as  to  afford  to  its  power  the  condition 
requisite  to  let  it  spring  to  full  spontaneous  activity  ; 
imperfect,  when  the  object  is  of  such  a  character  as 
either  (a)  to  stimulate  tiie  power  to  a  degree  or  to  a 
continuance  of  activity  beyond  its  maximum  of  free 
exertion  ;  or  (6)  to  thAvart  it  in  its  tendency  towards 
this  its  natural  limit.  An  object  is  consequently 
pleasurable  or  painful,  inasmuch  as  it  determines  a 
power  to  perfect  or  to  imperfect  energy. 

But  an  object,  or  plurality  of  objects  simultaneously 
presented,  may  determine  a  plurality  of  powers  into 
co-activity.  The  complex  state,  which  thus  arises,  is 
pleasurable  in  proportion  as  its  constitutive  energies 
are  severally  more  perfect ;  painful  in  proportion  as 
these  are  more  imperfect :  and  in  proportion  as  an 
object,  or  a  complement  of  objects,  occasions  the  av- 
erage perfection  or  the  average  imperfection  of  the 
complex  state,  is  it,  in  like  manner,  pleasurable  or 
painful. 

IX.  In  conformity  to  this  doctrine,  pleasure  and 
pain  may  be  thus  defined  :  Pleasure  is  a  reflex  of  the 
spontaneous  and  unimpeded  exertion  of  a  power,  of 
whose  energy  ive  are  conscious;  Pain,  a  reflex  of  the 
overstrained  or  repressed  exertion  of  such  a  power. 

Observations.  I.  In  illustration  of  these  definitions 
it  may  be  observed  that, 

1.  Pleasure  is  defined  to  be  the  reflex  of  perfect 
energy,  and  not  to  be  either  energy  or  the  perfection 
of  energy  itself;  and  why?  (a)  It  is  not  simply  de- 
fined an  energy,  because  some  energies  are  not  pleas- 
urable, being  either  painful  or  indifferent.     (6)  It  is 


SIR    IFILLTAAf  HAMILTON^ S  PniLOSOPnY. 


199 


it  is  of 
nclition 
itivity ; 
ctcr  as 
or  to  a 
of  free 
;owards 
quently 
nines  a 

neously 
3rs  into 
rises,  is 
energies 
rtion  as 
n  as  an 
the  av- 
of  the 
i-able  or 

ure  and 
ex  of  the 
7wer,  of 
X  of  the 
cer. 
;finitions 

*  perfect 
crfection 
nply  de- 
ot  pleas- 
(h)  It  is 


not  simply  defined  the  perfection  of  an  energy,  be- 
cause we  can  easily  separate  in  thought  the  perfection 
of  an  act  from  any  feeling  of  pleasure  in  its  perform- 
ance. The  same  holds  true,  mutatis  imitandis,  of  the 
definition  of  pain,  as  a  reflex  of  imperfect  energy. 

2.  The  term  sjiontaneous  refers  to  the  subjective, 
the  term  unimpeded  to  the  objective,  perfection. 

3.  There  are  powers  in  man,  the  activities  of 
which  lie  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness ;  ^  but 
it  is  of  the  very  essence  of  pleasure  and  pain  to  be 
felt,  and  there  is  no  feeling  out  of  consciousness. 

n.  It  is  also  to  be  observed  that,  on  this  doctrine, 
there  are  different  kinds  of  pleasure  and  pain. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  these  are  twofold,  inasmuch  as 
each  is  either  positive  and  absolute  or  negative  and  rel- 
ative, (a)  Tlie  mere  negation  of  pain  docs,  by  re- 
lation to  pain,  constitute  a  state  of  pleasure.  Thus 
the  removal  of  toothache  replaces  us  in  a  state  which, 
though  one  really  of  indifierence,  is,  by  contrast  to 
our  previous  agony,  felt  as  pleasurable.  This  is  neg- 
ative or  relative  pleasure,  (b)  Positive  or  absolute 
pleasure,  on  the  contrary,  is  all  that  pleasure  Avhich 
wo  feel  above  a  state  of  indifference,  and  which  is 
therefore  prized  as  a  good  in  itself,  and  not  simply  as 
the  removal  of  an  evil.  On  the  same  principle  pain 
is  also  divided. 

2.  But,  in  the  second  place,  there  is  a  subdivision 
of  positive  pain  into  («)  that  which  accompanies  a 
repression  of  the  spontaneous  energy  of  a  power,  and 
(b)  that  which  is  cAijoined  with  its  effort  when  stim- 
ulated to  over-activity.  (Lect.  on  3Ietap>h.,  XLII.) 

'  See  Phenomenology  of  the  Cognitions,  Chap.  II.,  §  1. 


'f^ 


m 


ll  ft 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  FEELINGS. 


CHAPTER     II. 


•,i    .f! 


the   abstract  theory  applied  to  the   concrete 
phenomena:   classification  of  the  feelings. 

We  may  consider  the  feelings  either  a?  causes  or 
as  effects.  (1.)  As  causes ^  they  are  viewed  m  relation 
to  their  product,  —  pleasure,  or  pain.  (2.)  As  effects^ 
they  are  viewed,  as  themselves  products  of  the  action 
of  our  different  constitutive  functions. 

§  1.    THE   FEELINGS  AS   CAUSES. 

In  this  point  of  view,  the  feelings  are  distributed 
simply  into  the  pleasurable  and  the  painful;  and  it 
remains,  on  the  theory  I  have  i)roposed,  to  explain  in 
general  the  causes  of  these  opposite  affections,  without 
descending  to  their  special  kinds. 

I.  The  theory  meets  with  no  contradiction  from  the 
fiicts  of  actual  life ;  for  the  contradictions,  which  at 
first  sight  these  seem  to  offer,  prove,  when  examined, 
to  be  real  confirmations.  Thus  ft  miffht  be  thought 
that  the  aversion  from  exercise, — the  love  of  idle- 
ness, —  in  a  word,  the  dolce  far  niente,  —  is  a  proof 

200 


in 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  HAMILTON'S  PIllLOSOPnY. 


201 


NCRETE 
INGS. 

uses  or 
relation 
5  effects, 
5  action 


tributed 
and  it 
plain  in 
without 

from  the 

vhich  at 

amined, 

thought 

of  idle- 

a  proof 


that  the  inactivity,  rather  than  the  cxcrdon,  of  our 
powers  is  the  condition  of  our  pleasurable  feelings. 
This  objection,  from  a  natural  proneness  to  inertion 
in  man,  is  superficial.  Is  the  far  niente  —  is  that 
doing  nothing,  in  which  so  many  find  so  sincere  a 
gratification  — in  reality  a  negation  of  activity,  and  not 
in  truth  itself  an  activity  intense  and  varied?  To  do 
nothing,  in  this  sense,  is  simply  to  do  nothing  irk- 
some, especially  to  do  no  outward  work.  But  is  the 
mind  internally,  the  while,  unoccupied  and  inert? 
This,  on  the  contrary,  may  be  vividly  alive,  —  may  he 
intently  engaged  in  the  spontaneous  play  of  imagina- 
tion ;  and  so  far,  therefore,  in  this  case,  from  pleasure 
being  the  concomitant  of  inactivity,  the  activity  is  at 
once  vigorous  and  unimpeded,  and  such  accordingly 
as,  on  our  theory,  Avould  be  accompanied  by  a  high 
degree  of  pleasure.  Ennui  is  the  state  on  which  we 
find  nothing  to  exercise  our  powers ;  but  ennui  is  a 
state  of  pain. 

II.  A  strong  confirmation  of  the  theory  is  derived 
from  the  phenomena  presented  by  those  affections 
which  we  emphatically  denominate  the  painful. 

1.  Take,  for  example,  the  affection  of  gnef\ — the 
sorrow  we  feel  in  the  loss  of  a  beloved  object.  Is 
this  affection  unaccompanied  with  pleasure?  So  far 
is  this  from  being  the  case,  that  the  pleasure  so  greatly 
predominates  over  the  pain  as  to  produce  a  mixed 
emotion,  which  is  far  more  pleasurable  than  any  other 
of  which  the  wounded  heart  is  susceptible. 

2.  In  like  manner,  fear  is  not  simply  painful.  It 
is  a  natural  disposition,  has  a  tendency  to  act ;  and 
there  is  consequently,  along  with  its  essential  pain,  a 


^ ' 


202 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


certain  pleasure  as  the  reflex  of  its  energy, 
finely  expressed  by  Akensitle  :  — 


This  is 


if 


"Ilcnce,  finally,  hy  night 
The  village  matron  round  the  blazing  hearth 
Suspends  the  infant  audicnee  with  her  tales, 
Breathing  astonishment!   of  witehing  rhymes 
And  evil  spirits  of  the  death-bed  call 
Of  him  who  robbed  the  widow  and  devoured 
The  orphan's  portion;   of  unquiet  souls 
Kisen  from  the  grave  to  case  the  heavy  guilt 
Of  deeds  in  life  concealed ;  of  shapes  tliat  walk 
At  dead  of  night  and  clank  their  chains,  and  wave 
The  torch  of  hell  around  the  murderer's  bed. 
At  every  solemn  pause  the  crowd  recoil, 
Gazing  each  other  speechless,  and  congealed 
"With  shivering  sighs,  till,  eager  for  the  event, 
Around  the  beklame  all  erect  they  hang. 
Each  trembling  heart  with  grateful  terrors  quelled." 

3.  Pitf/,  also,  which,  being  a  sympathetic  passion, 
implies  a  participation  in  sorrow,  is  yet  confessedly 
agreeable.  The  poet  even  accords  to  the  energy  of 
this  benevolent  affection  a  preference  over  the  enjoy- 
ments of  an  exclusive  selfishness  :  — 

"  The  broadest  mirth  unfeeling  folly  wears 
Is  not  so  sweet  as  virtue's  very  tears." 

4.  On  the  same  principle  is  to  be  explained  the  en- 
joyment which  men  have  in  spectacles  of  suffering,  — 
in  the  combats  of  animals  and  men,  in  executions,  in 
tragedies,  etc. ;  a  disposition  which  not  unfrequently 
becomes  an  irresistible  habit,  not  only  for  individuals, 
but  also  for  nations.  The  excitation  of  energetic 
emotions,  painful  in  themselves,  is  also  pleasura- 
ble. 


?his  is 


ed." 

passion, 

fessedly 

crgy  of 

cnjoy- 


the  en- 
ring,  — 
;ions,  in 
cqnently 
ividuals, 
nergetic 
)leasura- 


sin   WILLIAM  HAMILTON  S   PniLOSOPHY. 


203 


"We  ma}'  here  notice  four  tjeneml  cmtse/i  which  con- 
tribute to  raise  or  to  lower  tlic  iutensitv  of  our  encr- 
gics,  and  consequeutly  to  determine  the  correspond- 
ing degree  of  pleasure  or  pain. 

I.  ^fovelfij.  The  principle  on  which  novelty 
determines  a  higher  energy  is  tworfold  ;  and  of  these 
the  one  may  be  called  the  subjective,  the  other  the 
ohjedive. 

1.  In  a  suhjedlve  relation,  the  new  is  pleasurable, 
inasmuch  as  this  supposes  that  the  mind  is  determined 
to  a  mode  of  action,  either  from  inactivity  or  from 
another  state  of  cnerg3\  («)  In  the  former  case,  en- 
ergy, the  condition  of  pleasure,  is  caused  ;  (7>)  in  the 
latter,  a  change  of  energy  is  afforded,  which  is  also 
pleasural)le ;  for  powers  energize  less  vigorously  in 
proportion  to  the  continuance  of  the  same  exertion, 
and,  consequentl}',  a  new  activity  being  determined, 
this  replaces  a  strained  or  expiring  exercise,  that  is, 
it  replaces  a  painful,  indifferent,  or  unpleasurable  feel- 
ing by  one  of  comparatively  vivid  enjoyment. 

2.  In  an  objective  relation,  a  novel  object  is  pleas- 
ing, because  it  affords  a  gratification  to  our  desire  of 
knowledge.  The  old  is  already  known,  and  therefore 
no  longer  occupies  the  cognitive  faculties  ;  whereas 
the  new,  as  new,  is  still  unknown,  and  rouses  to  en- 
ergy the  powers  by  which  it  is  to  be  brought  within 
the  system  of  our  knowledge. 

II.  Contrast  operates  in  two  ways  ;  for  it  has  the 
effect  of  enhanciiifj  both  the  real  or  absolute,  and  the 
apparent  or  relative,  intensity  of  a  feeling.  (1.)  As 
an  instance  of  the  former,  the  unkindness  of  a  person, 
from  whom  we  expect  kindness,  rouses  to  a  far  higher 


I    ■ 


ti 


. 


I 


fr       • 


' 


204 


AN  OVTLTXE   OP 


pitcli  the  cmotions'conscquent  on  injury.  (2.)  As  an 
instance  of  the  latter,  the  pleasure  of  eating  appears 
proportionally  great  when  it  is  immediately  con- 
nected and  contrasted  with  the  removal  of  the  pangs 
of  hunger. 

JII.  The  relation%  of  Iiai'mo)i7/  or  discord^  in  which 
one  coexistent  activity  stands  to  another.  At  differ- 
ent times  wc  exist  in  different  complex  states  of 
feeling,  and  these  states  are  made  up  of  a  number  of 
constituent  thoughts  and  affections.  At  one  time  — 
say  during  a  sacred  solemnity  —  wo  are  in  a  very 
different  frame  of  mind  from  what  we  are  in  at  an- 
other, —  say  during  the  representation  of  a  comedy. 
NoAv,  then,  in  such  a  state  of  mind,  if  anything  occurs 
to  awaken  to  activity  a  power  previously  occupied,  or 
to  occupy  a  power,  previously  in  energy,  in  a  differ- 
ent manner,  this  new  mode  of  activity  is  either  of  the 
same  general  character  and  tendency  with  the  other 
constituent  elements  of  the  complex  state,  or  it  is  not. 
(1.)  In  the  former  case,  the  new  energy  chimes  in 
Avith  the  old  ;  each  operates  without  impediment  from 
the  other,  and  the  general  harmony  of  feeling  is  not 
violated;  (2.)  in  the  latter  case,  the  new  energy  jars 
with  the  old,  and  each  severally  counteracts  and  im- 
pedes the  other.  Thus,  in  the  sacred  solemnity,  and 
when  onr  minds  are  brought  to  a  state  of  serious  con- 
tomplation,  everything  that  operates  in  unison  with 
that  state  —  say  a  pious  discourse  or  a  strain  of  sol- 
emn music — will  have  a  greater  effect.  But  suppose 
that,  instead  of  the  pious  discourse,  or  the  strain  of 
solemn  music,  we  are  treated  to  a  merry  tune  or  a 
witty  address;   these,  though  at  another  season  they 


\l 


Snt    WILLIAM  HAMILTOX^S   PniLOSOPHY. 


205 


• 


might  afford  us  considerable  pleasure,  would,  under 
the  circumstances,  cause  only  pain. 

IV.  Association.  It  is  evident,  in  the  Jirst  place, 
that  one  object,  considered  simply  and  in  itnelf,  will 
be  more  pleasing  than  another,  in  proportion  as  it,  of 
its  proper  nature,  determiu'^s  the  exertion  of  a  greater 
amount  of  free  energy.  Bui,  in  the  second  place,  the 
amount  of  free  energy,  v/lucli  an  object  may  itself 
elicit,  is  small,  when  coPuparcd  with  the  amount  that 
may  be  elicited  by  its  train  of  associated  representa- 
tions. Thus  it  is  evident,  that  the  object,  which  in 
itself  would  otherwise  be  pleasing,  may,  through  the 
accident  of  association,  be  the  occasion  of  pain  ;  and 
on  the  contrary,  that  an  object,  naturally  indiffer- 
ent or  even  painful,  may,  by  the  same  contingency, 
be  productive  of  pleasure. 

This  principle  accounts  for  a  great  many  of  our 
intellectual  pleasures  and  pains ;  but  it  is  far  from 
accounting  for  everj^thhig.  In  fact,  it  supposes,  as  its 
condition,  that  there  are  pains  and  pleasures  not 
founded  on  association.  Association  is  a  principle  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  only  as  it  is  a  principle  of  energy 
of  one  character  or  another ;  and  the  attempts  that 
have  been  made  to  resolve  all  our  mental  pleasures 
and  pains  into  association  are  guilty  of  a  twofold  vice. 
For  (1.)  they  convert  a  partial  into  an  exclusive  law  ; 
and  (2.)  they  elevate  a  subordinate  into  a  supreme 
princi^wc.     {Led.  on  Metaph.,  XLIV.) 

The  inlluence  of  association,  by  which  Mr.  Alison 
and  Lord  Jeffrey,  among  others,  have  attempted  to 
explain  the  W'holc  phenomena  of  our  intellectual 
pleasures,  was  more  properly,  I  think,  apprecititcd  by 


rs 


20G 


AN  OUTLIXK   OF 


r 


i-^ 


IIutcliGson.  "Wc  shall  sec  horcaftor,"  he  says,  and 
Aristotle  said  the  same  thing,  "that  associations  of 
ideas  make  objects  pleasant  and  delightful,  Avhich  arc 
not  naturally  apt  to  give  any  such  pleasures  ;  and  tlie 
same  way,  the  casual  conjunction  of  ideas  may  give  a 
disgust  where  there  is  nothing  disagreeable  in  the 
form  itself.  And  this  is  the  occasion  of  many  fantas- 
tic aversions  to  figures  of  some  animals  and  to  some 
other  forms.  Thus  swine,  serpents  of  all  Ivinds,  and 
some  insects  really  beautiful  enough,  arc  beheld  with 
aversion  by  many  people,  who  have  got  some  acci- 
dental ideas  associated  with  them.  And  for  distastes 
of  this  kind  no  other  account  can  be  given." 


m 


Mifi 


§  2.    THE  FEELINGS  AS   EFFECTS. 

Since  all  feeling  is  the  state  in  which  we  are  con- 
scious of  some  of  the  energies  or  processes  of  life,  as 
these  energies  or  processes  differ,  so  will  the  correla- 
tive feelings  :  in  a  word,  there  will  be  as  many  differ- 
ent feelings  as  there  are  distinct  modes  of  mental 
activity.  Now,  the  feelings,  which  accompany  the 
exertion  of  the  bodily  powers,  whether  cognitive  or 
appctcnt,  will  constitute  a  distinct  class,  to  which  we 
may  with  great  propriety  give  the  name  of  Sensations; 
whereas,  on  the  feelings,  which  accompany  the  ener- 
gies of  all  our  higher  powers  of  mind,  we  may,  Avith 
equal  propriety,  bestow  the  name  of  Sentiments. 

(A)  The  Sensations  may  be  divided  mto  two 
classes:  (1.)  those  included  under  what  has  been 
called  Sensiis  Fixus,  comprehending  the  five  deter- 
minate senses  of  touch,  taste,  smell,  hearinf/,  sight;  (2.) 


Ki  i 


sin    WILLIAM  JlAMILTOy's   PJIILOSOPJir. 


207 


those   inc'lutlcd  under  Avhiit  has  l)eeu  called   Sensus 
Vcif/ui^y  eoiiipreheiiding  such   scn.sations  us   tiiosc   of 
h  at  und  cold,  of  muscular  tension  mid  lassitude,  of 
hunyer  und. (hirst,  etc. 

I.  /SensHs  Fixus.  In  regard  to  the  detenniuato 
seuses,  each  of  these  organs  has  its  specific  action,  and 
its  appropriate  pleasure  or  pain.  This  pleasure  und 
pain,  which  is  that  alone  belonging  to  the  action  of 
the  living  organ,  and  which  therefore  may  be  styled 
organic,  Ave  must  distinguish  from  that  higher  feeling, 
which  perhaps  results  from  the  exercise  of  imagina- 
tion and  intellect  upon  the  phenomena  delivered  by 
the  senses.  Thus,  I  would  call  organic  the  pleasure 
we  feel  in  the  perception  of  green  or  blue,  and  the 
pain  we  feel  in  the  perception  of  a  dazzling  white ; 
but  I  would  be  perhaps  disposed  to  refer  to  some 
other  power  than  the  external  sense  the  enjoyment  we 
experience  in  the  harmony  of  colors,  and  certainly 
that  which  Ave  find  in  the  proportions  of  figure. 

When  it  is  required  of  us  to  explain,  particularly 
and  in  detail,  Avhy  the  rose,  for  example,  produces 
this  sensation  of  smell,  assafcetida  that  other,  and  so 
forth,  and  to  say  in  Avhat  peculiar  action  does  the  per- 
fect or  pleasurable,  and  the  imperfect  or  painful,  ac- 
tivity of  an  organ  consist,  Ave  must  at  once  profess 
our  ignorance.  All  that  aa'c  can  say  is,  that,  on  the 
general  analogy  of  our  being,  Avhcn  the  impression  of 
an  object  on  a  sense  is  in  harmony  Avith  its  amount  of 
power,  and  thus  alloAvs  it  the  condition  of  springing 
to  full  spontaneous  energy,  the  result  is  pleasure  ; 
Avhereas,  Avhen  the  impression  is  out  of  harmony  Avith 


,  i. 


m 


208 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


h 


the  amount  of  power,  and  thus  either  represses  it  or 
stimulates  it  to  over-activity,  the  result  is  pain. 

II.  JSensus  Vagus.  The  same  explanation  must  be 
applied  to  the  sensations  which  belong  to  this  sense, 
but  in  regard  to  these  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  any- 
thing in  detail. 

(B)  The  Sentiments  may  be  divided  into  (1.)  the 
contemjjlafive,  the  concomitants  of  our  cognitive  pow- 
ers, and  (2.)  the  practical,  the  concomitsmts  of  our 
powers  of  conation.  * 

I.  The  contemplative  sentiments  are  again  distribu- 
ted into  (1.)  those  of  the  subsidiari/ faculties,  and 
(2.)  those  of  the  elahorative  faculty. 

1.  The  feelings,  accompanying  the  si<&s/(7iary^/«c- 
ulties,  may  be  sulidiv  ided  into  (a)  those  of  self-con- 
sciousness, and  (h)  those  of  imagination,  compre- 
hendincr  under  imajrination  the  relative  faculty  of 
repimductlon. 

(«)  Sentiments  attending  Self -consciousness.  By 
self-consciousness  we  become  aware  that  we  live. 
Now,  ^ve  are  conscious  of  our  life  only  as  we  are  con- 
scious of  our  activity,  and  we  are  conscious  of  activity 
only  as  we  are  conscious  of  a  change  of  state  ;  for  all 
activity  is  the  going  out  of  one  state  into  another. 
Now,  if  there  be  nothing  which  presents  to  our  facul- 
ties the  objects  on  which  they  may  exert  their  activity  ; 
in  other  words,  if  there  be  no  cause  whereby  our  act- 
ual state  may  be  made  to  pass  into  another,  'there 
results  a  peculiar  irksome  feeling  of  a  want  of  excite- 
ment, which  Ave  denominate  tedium  or  ennui.  An 
inability  to  thought  is  a  security  against  this  feeling, 
and  therefore  tedium  is  far  less  felt  by  the  uncultivated 


SIR    mZLIAM  HAMlLTOifs  PHILOSOPnT. 


209 


aud 


By 

live. 

D  cou- 

tivity 

or  all 

other. 

■ueul- 
ivity ; 
ir  act- 

tliorc 
xcite- 
An 

eliug, 

ivated 


than  by  the  educated.  The  more  varied  the  objects 
presented  to  our  thought,  the  more  varied  and  viva- 
cinns  our  activity,  the  intenser  will  be  our  conscious- 
ness of  living,  and  the  more  rapidly  will  the  time 
appear  to  fly.  Hence  Ave  explain  why  we  call  our 
easy  occupations  jpastiiJies,  and  why  play  is  so  engag- 
ing when  it  is  at  all  deep.  Games  of  hazard  de- 
termine a  continual  change,  —  now  we  hope,  now  Ave 
fear;  Avhile  in  games  of  skill,  we  experience  also  the 
pleasure  which  arises  from  the  activity  of  the  under- 
standing in  carrying  through  our  own,  and  frustrating 
the  plan  of  our  antagonist. 

All  that  relieves  tedium,  by  affording  a  change  and 
an  easy  exercise  for  or.r  thoughts,  causes  pleasure. 
The  best  cure  of  tedium  is  some  occupation  Avhich,  by 
concentrating  our  attention  on  external  objects,  shall 
divert  it  from  a  retortion  on  ourselves.  All  occupa- 
tion is  either  labor  or  play  ;  labor  when  there  is  some 
end  ulterior  to  the  activity,  play  Avhen  the  activity  is 
for  its  OAvn  sake  alone.  In  both,  hoAvevcr,  there  must 
be  ever  and  anon  a  change  of  object,  or  both  Avill  soon 
groAV  tiresome.  Labor  is  thus  the  best  jn-eATntive  of 
tedium,  for  it  has  an  external  motiA^e  Avhich  holds  us 
steadfast  to  the  work  ;  Avhile,  after  the  completion  of 
our  task,  the  fooling  of  repose,  as  the  change  from  the 
feeling  of  a  constrained  to  that  of  a  spontaneous  state, 
affords  a  vivid  and  peculiar  pleasure.  Labor  niurst 
alternate  Avith  repose,  or  Ave  shall  never  know  Avhat  is 
the  true  enjoyment  of  life. 

Thus  it  appears  that  a  uniform  continuity  In  our  in- 
ternal states  is  painful,  and  that  pleasure  is  the  result 
of  their  commutation.  It  is,  hoAvcver,  to  be  observed, 
U 


lil  ■     T 


I- 


(.■I 


210 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


.^i 


■■■     1 


Si   I 

lili 


that  the  change  of  our  perceptions  and  thoughts,  to  be 
pleasing,  must  not  be  too  rapid;  for  as  the  intervals, 
when  too  long,  produce  the  feeling  of  tedium,  so, 
when  too  short,  they  cause  that  oi  giddiness  or  vertigo. 
The  too  rapid  passing,  for  example,  of  visible  objects 
or  of  tones  before  the  senses,  of  images  before  the 
phantasy,  of  thoughts  before  the  understanding,  occa- 
sions the  disagreeable  feeling  of  confusion  or  stupe- 
faction, which,  in  individuals  of  very  sensitive 
temperament,  results  in  nausea  or  sickness. 

(b)  Sentiments  attending  Imagination.  Whatever 
in  general  facilitates  the  play  of  imagination,  is  felt 
as  pleasing ;  whatever  renders  it  more  difficult  is  felt 
as  displeasing.  We  are  pleased  with  the  portrait  of 
a  person  whose  face  we  know,  if  like,  because  it  en- 
ables us  to  recall  the  features  into  consciousness  easily 
and  freely ;  and  we  are  displeased  with  it,  if  unlike, 
because  it  not  only  does  not  assist,  but  thwarts  us  in 
our  endeavor  to  recall  them ;  while,  after  this  has 
been  accomplished,  we  are  still  further  pained  by  the 
disharmony  we  experience  between  the  portrait  on  the 
canvas  and  the  representation  in  our  own  imagina- 
tion. A  short  and  characteristic  description  of  things 
which  Ave  have  seen  pleases  us,  because,  without 
exacting  a  protracted  effort  of  attention,  and  through 
a  few  striking  traits,  it  enables  the  imagination  to 
place  the  objects  vividly  before  it.  On  the  same  prin- 
ciple, whatever  facilitates  the  reproduction  of  the  ob- 
jects which  have  been  consigned  to  memory  is 
pleasurable  ;  as,  for  example,  resemblances,  contrasts, 
other  associations  with  the  passing  thought,  metro, 
rhyme,  symmetry,  appropriate  designations,  etc.     To 


Srn    WILLIAM  HAMILTON' S   PniLOSOPHY. 


211 


things 
dtliout 


[ion  to 
|c  prin- 
thc  ob- 
[ory  is 
Itrasts, 
I  metre, 
To 


realize  an  act  of  imagination  it  is  necessary  that  we 
comprehend  the  manifold  as  a  single  whole  :  an  ob- 
ject, therefore,  which  does  not  allow  itself  without 
difficulty  to  be  thus  represented  in  unity,  occasions 
pain  ;  whereas  an  object,  which  can  easily  be  recalled 
to  system,  is  the  cause  of  pleasure."  The  former  is 
the  case  Avhen  the  object  is  too  large  or  too  complex 
to  be  perceived  at  once,  when  the  parts  arc  not  promi- 
nent enough  to  be  distinctly  impressed  on  the  memory. 
Order  and  symmetry,  again,  facilitate  the  acts  of  re- 
production and  representation,  and  consequently  afford 
us  a  proportional  gratification.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  pleasure  is  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of 
free  energy,  an  object  which  gives  no  impediment  to 
the  comprehensive  energy  of  imagination  may  not  Ijo 
pleasura!)le,  if  it  be  so  simple  as  not  to  aff()rd  to  this 
facult}''  a  sufficient  exercise.  Hence  it  is,  that  not 
variety  alone,  and  not  unity  alone,  but  variety  com- 
bined with  unity,  is  that  quality  in  objects,  which  we 
emphatically  denominate  beautiful. 

2.  Under  the  head  of  the  feelings  which  are  asso- 
ciated  with  the  elnhoratlve  faculty  or  the  understand- 
ing, it  will  be  proper  to  consider,  in  the  lirst  place, 
those  which  arise  from  the  operations  of  the  under- 
standing by  itself,  and  afterwards  those  which  accom- 
pany the  joint  exercise  of  the  understanding  and  the 
imagination. 

(«)  Sentiments  aUendhuj  the  exercise  of  the  U/ider- 
slandi)ig  by  itself  The  function  of  the  understanding 
may  in  general  be  said  to  bestow,  on  the  cognitions 
which  it  elaborates,  the  greatest  possi])lc  compass,  the 
greatest  possible  clearness  and  distinctness,  the  great- 


11 


,11 


212 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


It 
h 


I    -i 


11  ild 


est  possible  certainty  and  systematic  order ;  and  inas- 
mucli  as  we  approximate  to  the  atjcomplishmeut  of 
these  ends,  we  experience  pleasure  ;  inasmuch  as  we 
meet  with  hindrances  in  our  attempts,  wc  experience 
pain.  Obscurity  and  confusion  in  our  cognitions  wo 
feel  as  disagreeable,  whereas  their  clearness  and  dis- 
tinctness afford  us  sincere  gratitication.  AVc  arc 
pained  l)y  a  hazy  and  perplexed  discourse,  but  rejoice 
in  one  perspicuous  and  profound.  Hence  the  pleasure 
we  experience  in  having  the  cognitions  we  possessed, 
but  darkling  and  confused,  explicated  into  life  and 
order ;  and,  on  this  account,  there  is  hardly  a  more 
pleasing  object  than  a  tabular  conspectus  of  any  com- 
plex whole.  We  are  soothed  by  the  solution  of  a 
riddle;  and  the  wit  which,  like  a  flash  of  lightning, 
discovers  similarities  between  objects  which  seemed 
contradictor3^  affords  a  still  intenser  enjoyment. 

The  multitude  —  the  multifarious  character  —  of 
the  objects  presented  to  our  observation  stands  in 
signal  contrast  Avith  the  very  limited  capacity  of  the 
human  intellect.  This  disproportion  couGtrains  us  to 
classify.  Now,  the  process  of  classification  is  per- 
formed by  that  function  of  the  understanding  which 
apprehends  resemblances.  In  this  detection  of  the 
similarities  between  different  objects  an  energy  of  the 
understanding  is  fully  and  freely  exerted  ;  and  hence 
results  a  pleasure.  But  as  in  general  notions  the 
knowledge  of  individual  existences  loses  in  precision 
and  completeness,  we  again  endeavor  to  find  out  dif- 
ferences in  the  things  which  stand  under  a  notion,  to 
the  end  that  we  may  be  able  to  specify  and  individual- 
ize them.     This  counter-process  is  performed  by  that 


1:1 


sin    WILLIAM  HAMILTON'S   PIIILOSOPHY. 


213 


function  of  the  understanding  which  apprehends  dis- 
similarities between  resembling  objects,  and  in  the 
full  and  tree  exertion  of  this  energy  there  is  a  feeling 
of  pleasure. 

The  intellect  further  tends  to  reduce  the  piecemeal 
and  fragmentary  cognitions  it  possesses  to  a  systematic 
whole  ;  in  other  words,  to  elevate  them  into  Science. 
Hence  the  pleasure  we  derive  from  all  that  enal)les  us 
with  ease  and  rapidity  to  survey  the  relation  of  com- 
plex parts  as  constituting  the  members  of  one  organic 
whole.  The  intellect,  from  the  necessity  it  has  of 
thinking  everything  as  the  result  of  some  higher 
reason,  is  thus  determined  to  attempt  the  deduction 
of  every  object  of  cognition  from  a  simple  principle. 
When,  therefore,  Ave  succeed  or  seem  to  succeed  in 
the  discovery  of  such  a  principle,  we  feel  a  pleasure ; 
as  we  feel  a  pain  when  the  intellect  is  frustrated  in 
this  endeavor. 

To  the  feelings  of  pleasure  which  are  affor«led  by 
the  unimpeded  energies  of  the  understanding  l)elongs, 
likewise,  the  gratification  we  find  in  the  apprehension 
of  adaptation  of  means  to  ends.  Human  intelligence 
is  naturally  determined  to  propose  to  itself  an  end ; 
and,  in  the  consideration  of  objects,  it  thus  naturally 
thinks  them  under  this  relation.  If,  therefore,  wo  con- 
sider an  object  in  reference  to  an  end,  and  if  this  ob- 
ject be  recognized  to  fulfil  the  conditions  which 
this  relation  implies,  the  act  of  thought,  in  which  this 
is  accomplished,  is  an  unimpeded  and  consequently 
pleasurable  energy  ;  whereas  the  act  of  cognizing  that 
these  conditions  are  wanting,  and  the  object  therefore 


« 


Wl 


K    ' 


214 


AN^  OUTLINE   OF 


i< 


ill  adapted  to  its  cad,  is  a  thwarted,  and  therefore  a 
painful,  energy  of  thought. 

{h)  Sentiments  attending  the  Understanding  and 
the  Imagination  in  conjunction.  The  feelings  of  satis- 
faetioii  Avhich  result  from  Xha 2)Jastic  imagination,  that 
is,  the  phantasy  and  the  understanding  conjointly,  arc 
principally  those  of  beauty  and  sublimity;  and  the 
judgments  which  pronounce  an  object  to  be  sublime, 
heauUfnl,  etc.,  are  called,  by  a  metaphorical  expres- 
sion, Judgments  of  Taste.  They  have  also  been  called 
u'Estlietical  Judgments ;  but  both  terms  are  unsatis- 
factor}'.  In  the  following  observations  it  is  almost 
needless  to  observe  that  I  can  make  no  attempt  at 
more  than  a  simple  indication  of  the  origin  of  the 
pleasure  we  derive  from  the  contemplation  of  those 
objects,  which,  from  the  character  of  the  feelings  they 
determine,  are  called  beautiful,  sublime,  picturesque, 
etc. 

i.  The  Beautiful  has  been  divided  into  the  free  or 
absolute,  and  the  dej^endent  or  relative.  In  the  former 
ease  it  is  not  necessary  to  have  a  notion  of  what  the  ob- 
ject ought  to  be  before  we  pronounce  it  beautiful,  or  not ; 
in  the  latter  case  such  a  previous  notion  is  required. 
"We  judge,  for  example,  a  flower  to  be  beautifid, 
though  unaware  of  its  destination,  and  that  it  contains 
a  complex  apparatus  of  organs  all  admirably  adapted 
to  the  propagation  of  the  plant.  When  we  are  made 
cognizant  of  this,  we  obtain,  indeed,  an  additional 
gratiiication,  but  one  wholly  different  from  that  which 
we  experience  in  the  contemplation  of  the  flower 
itself,  apart  from  all  consideration  of  its  adaptations. 
This  distinction  appears  to  me  unsound.     What  has 


SIR   VriLLJAM  IIAAflLTOX  s  pniLOSonnv. 


215 


!: 


been  distinguished  as  dependent  or  relative  beauty  is 
nothing  more  than  a  beautified  utility  or  a  utilized 
beauty.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  our  pleasure 
in  both  cases  arises  from  a  free  and  full  play  being 
allowed  to  our  cognitive  faculties. 

(a)  In  the  case  of  yree  beauty,  —  beauty,  strictly 
so  called,  — both  the  imairination  and  the  understand- 
ing  find  occupation  ;  and  the  pleasure  we  experience 
from  such  an  object  is  in  proportion  as  it  affords  to 
these  faculties  the  opportunity  of  exerting  fidly  and 
freely  their  respective  energies.  Now,  it  is  the  prin- 
cipal function  of  the  understanding,  out  of  the  multi- 
farious presented  to  it,  to  form  a  whole.  Its  entire 
activity  is,  in  fact,  a  tendency  towards  unity  ;  and  it 
is  only  satisfied  when  this  object  is  so  constituted  as 
to  afford  the  opportunity  of  an  easy  and  perfect  per- 
formance of  this  its  function.  The  ol)ject  is  then 
judged  to  be  beautiful  or  pleasing.  This  enables  us 
to  explain  the  diflerences  of  different  individuals  in 
the  apprehension  of  the  beautiful.  If  an  understand- 
ing, by  natural  constitution,  by  cultivation  and  exer- 
cise, be  vigorous  enough  to  think  up  rapidl}'  into  a 
whole  what  is  presented  in  complexity,  the  individual 
has  an  enjoyment,  and  he  regards  the  object  as  beau- 
tiful ;  whereas  if  an  intellect  perform  this  function 
slowly  and  with  effort,  if  it  succeed  in  accomplishing 
the  end  at  all,  the  individual  can  feci  no  pleasure  (if 
he  does  not  experience  pain),  and  the  object  nmst  to 
him  appear  as  one  destitute  of  beauty,  if  not  positively 
ugly.  Hence  it  is  that  chiklren,  boors,  in  a  word 
persons  of  a  weak  or  uncultivated  mind,  may  find  the 


!«l 


i: 


216 


AJf  OUTLINE    OF 


i  t  h^ 


]  ! 


parts  of  a  building  beautiful,  ^vhilc  unable  to  compre- 
hend the  beauty  of  it  as  a  whole. 

((5)  In  the  ease  of  relat've  or  dependent  beauty  we 
must  distinguish  the  pleasure  we  receive  into  two, 
combined  indeed,  but  not  identical.  The  one  of  these 
pleasures  is  that  from  the  beauty  which  the  object 
contains,  and  the  principle  of  which  we  have  been 
just  considering.  The  other  of  these  pleasures  is  that 
^vhich  we  showed  was  attached  to  a  perfect  energy  of 
the  understanding  in  thinking  an  object  tuidcr  the 
notion  of  conformity  as  a  mean  adapted  to  an 
end. 

The  result,  then,  of  what  has  now  been  said  is,  that 
a  thing  beautiful  is  one  ivhose  form  occujnes  the  imagi- 
nation  and  understanding  in  a  free  and  full,  and  con- 
sequently in  an  agreeable,  activity. 

ii.  The  feeling  of  pleasure  in  the  sublime  is  essen- 
tially different  from  our  feeling  of  pleasure  in  the 
beautiful.  The  beautiful  affords  a  feelins:  of  nn- 
mingled  pleasure  in  the  full  and  unimpeded  activity 
of  our  cognitive  powers  ;  whereas  our  feeling  of  sub- 
limity is  a  mingled  one  of  pleasure  and  of  pain,  —  of 
pleasure  in  the  consciousness  of  strong  energy,  of 
pain  in  the  consciousness  that  this  energj''  is  in  vain. 
But  as  the  amount  of  pleasure  in  the  sublime  is  greater 
than  the  amount  of  pain,  it  follows  that  the  free  energy 
it  elicits  nuist  be  greater  than  the  free  energy  it 
repels.  The  beautiful  has  reference  to  the  form  of  an 
object,  and  the  facility  with  which  it  is  comprehended. 
For  beauty,  magnitude  is  thus  an  impediment.  Sub- 
limity, on  the  contrary,  requires  magnitude  as  its 
condition ;   and  the  formless  is  not  unfrequcntly  sub- 


SIR   JVILLIAM  HAMtLTON^S  PniLOSOPHY. 


217 


re- 


essen- 

n  the 

un- 

;tivity 

siib- 

—  of 

y,  of 
vaiu. 

rcater 
ncrgy 

jrgy  it 
of  an 
ncled. 
Sub- 
as  its 
ly  sub- 


lime. That  we  arc  at  once  attiactccl  and  ropollod  by 
sublimity,  arises  from  me  circumstance  that  the 
object,  which  we  call  ftublime,  is  proportioned  to  one 
of  our  faculties,  and  disproportioned  to  another ;  but 
as  the  degree  of  pleasure  transcends  the  degree  of 
pain,  the  power  whose  energy  is  promoted  must  be 
superior  to  that  power  whose  energy  is  repressed. 

The  sublime  may  be  divided,  according  to  tiie  three 
quantities,  into  the  sublime  of  extension,  the  sublime 
of  protension,  and  the  sublime  of  intension;  or,  what 
comes  to  the  same  thing,  the  sublime  of  space,  the 
sublime  of  time,  and  the  sublime  of  power.  In  the 
two  former  the  cognitive,  in  the  last  the  conativc, 
powers  come  into  play. 

(«)  An  object  is  extensively  or  protensively  sub- 
lime when  it  comprises  so  great  a  multitude  of  parts 
that  the  imagination  sinks  under  the  attempt  to  rep- 
resent it  in  an  image,  and  the  understanding  to 
measure  it  by  other  quantities.  Baftled  in  the  attempt 
to  reduce  the  object  within  the  limits  of  the  faculties 
by  wiiich  it  must  be  comprehended,  the  mind  at  once 
desists  from  the  ineffectual  effort,  and  conceives  the 
object  not  by  a  positive,  but  by  a  negative,  notion  ;  it 
conceives  it  as  inconceivable,  and  falls  l)ack  into 
repose,  which  is  felt  as  pleasing  by  contrast  to  the 
continuance  of  a  forced  and  impeded  energy.  Exam- 
ples of  the  sublime  —  of  this  sudden  effort,  and  of 
this  instantar.eous  desisting  from  the  attempt  —  arc 
manifested  in  the  extensive  sublime  of  Space,  and  in 
the  protensive  sublime  of  Eternity. 

(/5)  An  object  is  intensively  sublime  when  it  in- 
volves such  a  degree  of  force  or  power  that  the  imag- 


i 


m9. 


ff'    !        ' 


'r 


4 


i      !'. 


mi 


^ '  ,1 


218 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


ination  cannot  at  once  reprcsont,  and  the  undcrstancl- 
ing  cannot  at  once  ])ring  under  measure,  the  (|uantura 
of  this  force ;  and  wlien,  from  the  nature  of  the 
object,  the  inal)ility  of  the  mind  is  at  once  made 
apparent,  so  that  it  does  not  proceed  in  the  ineffectual 
effort,  l)ut  at  once  calls  back  its  energies  from  the 
attempt. 

It  is  thus  manifest  that  the  feeling  of  the  sublime 
Avill  be  one  of  mingled  pain  and  pleasure  ;  pleasure, 
from  the  vigorous  exertion  and  the  instantaneous 
repose ;  pain,  from  the  consciousness  of  limited  and 
frustrated  activity.  This  mixed  feeling  in  the  con- 
templation of  the  sublime  object  is  finely  expressed 
by  Lucretius  when  he  says  :  — 

"Me  quaedam  divina  voluptas 
Percipit  atquo  horror." 

iii.  The  Piduvesqiie,  however  opposite  to  the  sub- 
lime, seems,  in  my  opinion,  to  stand  to  the  beautiful 
in  a  somewhat  similar  relation.  An  object  is  posi- 
tivel}'^  ^igly»  when  it  is  of  such  a  form  that  the  imagi- 
nation and  the  understanding  cannot  help  attempting 
to  think  it  up  into  unity,  and  yet  their  energies  fail 
in  the  endeavor,  or  accomplish  it  only  imperfectly 
after  time  and  toil.  The  cause  of  this  continuance  of 
effort  is,  that  the  object  does  not  present  such  an 
appearance  of  incongruous  variety  as  at  once  to  com- 
pel the  mind  to  desist  from  the  attempt  of  reducing  it 
to  unity  ;  but,  on  the  contrar}',  leads  it  on  to  attempt 
what  it  is  yet  unable  to  perform,  —  its  reduction  to  a 
whole.  But  varict}^  —  variety  even  apart  from  unity 
—  is  pleasing ;    and  if  the  mind  be  made  content  to 


Sm    WILLIAM  HAMILTOX'S   PniLOSOmY. 


219 


siib- 

(autiful 

posi- 


exiiatinto  IVcoly  {iiid  cisily  in  tliis  variety,  without  at- 
tempting painfully  to  reduce  it  to  unity,  it  will  derive 
no  inconsiderable  pleasure  from  this  exertion  of  its 
powers.  Now,  a  picturescpie  object  is  precisely  of 
such  11  character.  It  is  so  determinately  varied  and 
so  abrupt  in  its  variety ;  it  presents  so  complete  a  ne- 
gation of  all  rounded  contour,  and  so  regular  an  irreg- 
ularity of  l)rokcn  lines  and  angles  ;  that  every  atteni[)t 
at  reducing  it  to  an  harmonious  whole  is  at  oiico 
found  to  be  impossible.  The  mind,  therefore,  which 
must  forego  the  energy  of  representing  and  thinking 
the  object  as  a  unity,  surrenders  itself  at  once  to  the 
energies  which  deal  with  it  only  in  detail. 

II.  The  i^ractical  feelings  are  divisible  into  five 
classes,  as  they  relate  to  (1.)  our  self-preservation, 
(2.)  the  enjoyment  of  our  existence,  (3.)  the  preser- 
vation of  the  species,  (4.)  our  tendency  toAvards  de- 
velopment and  perfection,  (5.)  the  moral  law. 

1.  T\\Q,  feelings  of  seJf-jyreservadon  are  those  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  loathing,  sorrow,  bodily  pain,  repose, 
fear  at  danger,  anxiety,  shuddering,  alarm,  composure, 
security,  and  the  nameless  feeling  at  the  representa- 
tion of  death.  Several  of  these  feelings  arc  corpo- 
real, and  may  be  considered,  with  equal  propriety,  as 
modifications  of  the  vague  sense. 

2.  The  feelinr/s  relatinrj  to  (lie  enjoyment  of  existence 
arise  from  the  fact  that  man  is  determined  not  only 
to  exist,  but  to  exist  well ;  he  is  therefore  determined 
also  to  desire  whatever  tends  to  render  life  agreeable, 
and  to  eschew  whatever  tends  to  render  it  disagree- 
able. All,  therefore,  that  appears  to  contribute  to 
the  former,  causes  in  him  the  feeling  of  joy;  whereas 


\l  ] 


220 


Ay  ovrusE  of 


Mt, 


nil  tluit  sccins  to  throjitoii  the  latter  excites  in  him 
tbo  re[)ivs,s(!cl  feelings  of  fear,  Jinxiety,  sorrow,  etc., 
■which  w(!  liJive  Jih'cjuly  nientioiied. 

3.  Man  is  cletcrinined  not  only  to  preserve  him- 
self, l)iit  to  preH'vvc  the  spccief^  to  Avhich  he  belongs, 
nntl  with  this  tendency  various  feelings  are  associated. 
To  this  head  belong  the  feelings  of  sexual  love  and 
l)arental  allection.  But  the  human  afl'ections  are  not 
limitetl  to  family  connections.  "Man,"  says  Aristotle, 
"is  the  sweetest  thing  to  man."  We  have  thus  a  ten- 
dency to  social  intercourse,  and  society  is  at  once  the 
necessary  condition  of  our  hapi)iness  and  of  our  per- 
fection. In  conformity  Avith  his  tendency  to  social 
existence  man  is  endowed  with  a  sympathetic  feeling; 
that  is,  he  rejoices  with  those  that  rejoice,  and  grieves 
with  those  that  grieve.  Compassion  or  pity  is  the 
name  given  to  tlie  latter  modification  of  sympathy ; 
the  former  is  without  a  definite  name.  Besides  sym- 
pathetic sorrow  and  sympathetic  joy,  there  are  a 
variety  of  feelings  which  have  reference  to  our  exist- 
ence in  a  social  relation.  Of  these  there  is  that  con- 
nected with  vanity,  or  the  wish  to  please  others  from 
the  desire  of  being  respected  by  them  ;  with  shame, 
or  the  fear  and  sorrow  at  incurring  their  disrespect ; 
with  pride,  or  the  overweening  sentiment  of  our  own 
worth.  To  the  saiue  ulass  we  may  refer  the  feelings 
connected  with  indi-^nation,  resentment,  anger,  scorn, 
etc. 

4.  There  is  in  man  implanted  a  desire  of  develop- 
ing his  powers, — ix  tendency  towards  jperfect ion.  In 
virtue  of  this,  the  consciousness  of  all  comparative 
inability  causes  pain ;    the  consciousness  of  all  com- 


sin    WILLIAM   ItAAflLTOS  S    r/IlLOSOIWlY. 


221 


'o  ' 


scorn, 


parutivo  jiowor  cjiuscs  ploasurc.  To  this  class  liclong 
the  fceliiij^rs  which  accompany  emulation,  —  the  desire 
of  rising  tjupcrior  to  others;  and  envy,  —  the  desire 
of  reducing  others  beneath  ourselves. 

5.  Wo  nro  conscious  that  there  is  in  man  a  moral 
laWf  which  unconditionally  connnands  the  fiiltilnient 
of  its  behests.  Inasmuch  as  moral  intelligence  uncon- 
ditionally commands  us  to  perform  what  we  arc  con- 
scious to  be  our  duty,  there  is  attributed  to  man  an 
absolute  worth.  The  feeling,  which  the  manifesta- 
tion of  this  worth  excites,  is  called  7-csj)ed.  With  the 
consciousness  of  the  lofty  nature  of  our  moral  tenden- 
cies, and  our  ability  to  fulfil  what  the  law  of  duty 
prescribes,  there  is  connected  the  feeling  of  seJf- 
respect;  whereas,  from  a  consciousness  of  the  contrast 
between  what  we  ought  to  do  and  what  we  actually 
perform,  there  arises  the  feeling  of  self -abasement. 
Thj  sentiment  of  respect  for  the  law  of  duty  is  the 
moral  feeling,  which  has  by  some  been  improperly 
denominated  the  moral  sense;  for  through  this  feeling 
we  do  not  take  cognizance  whether  anything  be 
morally  good  or  morally  evil,  but  when  l)y  our  intel- 
ligence we  recognize  aught  to  be  of  such  a  character, 
there  is  herewith  associated  a  feeling  of  pain  or 
pleasure,  which  is  nothing  more  than  our  state  in  ref- 
erence to  the  fulfilment  or  violation  of  the  law.  Man, 
as  conscious  of  his  liberty  to  act  and  of  the  hiw  by 
■which  his  actions  ought  to  be  regulated,  recognizes 
his  personal  accountability,  and  calls  himself  before 
the  internal  tribunal  which  avo  denominate  conscience. 
Here  he  is  either  acquitted  or  condemned.     The  ac- 


222 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  nAMILTOX^S  PHILOSOPnY. 


quittal  is  connected  with  a  peculiar  feeling  of  pleasur- 
able exultation,  as  the  condemnation  is  with  a  peculiar 
feeling  of  painful  humiliation,  —  remorse.  {Led.  on 
il/c^ay^.,  XLV.  and  XLVI.) 


Wl 


i)leasiir- 
Dcculiiir 
[.ed.  on 


THIRD  PART  OF  PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


PEENOMENOLOOT  OF  THE  CONATIONS. 


THIRD  PART  OF  PHENOMENAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


PHENOMENOLOGY  OF  THE  CONATIONS. 


"I 


III 


Under  the  third  class  of  mental  phenomeua  are 
comprehended  both  the  phenomenon  of  desire  and 
the  phenomenon  of  volition.  In  English  nnfortnnately 
WQ  have  no  term  capal)le  of  adequately  expressing 
■what  is  common  Ijoth  to  volition  and  desire,  that  is, 
the  nisiis  or  conatnK^  —  the  tendency  towards  the  reali- 
zation of  their  end.  Were  we  to  say  the  phenomena 
of  tendency,  the  phrase  would  be  vague  ;  and  the 
same  is  true  of  the  phenomena  of  doing.  Again,  the 
term  phenomena  of  appetency  is  o])jectionable,  because 
(to  say  nothing  of  the  unfamiliarity  of  the  expression) 
appetency,  though  perhaps  etymologically  imexcep- 
tionable,  has,  both  in  Latin  and  English,  a  meaning 
almost  synonymous  with  desire.  Like  the  Latin 
appetentla,  the  Greek  opt^'.^  is  equally  ill-balanced; 
for,  though  used  by  philosophers  to  comprehend  both 
will  and  desire,  it  more  familiarly  suggests  the  latter, 
and  Avc  need  not,  therefore,  be  solicitous,  with  Mr. 
Harris  and  Lord  Monboddo,  to  naturalize  in  English 
the  term  orectic.  Again,  the  phrase  phenomena  of 
activity  would  be  even  worse  ;  every  possible  objection 

15  225 


»l 


r  TT 


226 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


can  be  made  to  the  term  active  poicers,  by  which  the 
philosophers  of  this  country  have  designated  the  orec- 
tic  faculties  of  the  Aristotelians.  For  you  will  ob- 
serve that  all  faculties  are  equally  active ;  and  it  is 
not  the  overt  performance,  1)ut  the  tendency  towards 
,  it,  for  which  we  are  in  quest  of  an  expression.  The 
term  Conative  is  employed  by  Cudworth,  and  I  shall 
adopt  the  word  conations  as  the  most  appropriate 
expression  for  this  class  of  phenomena.  (Lect.  on 
3Ietajjh.,  XL) 

The  conations,  as  tendencies  to  action,  are  divisible 
into  classes,  as  such  tendencies  are  either  blind  and 
fatal,  or  deliberate  and  free.  The  former  are  desires , 
the  latter,  volitions. 

(A)  Desiues  may  be  sulxlivided  according  to  their 
objects,  for  they  relate  either  (1.)  to  Self-preserva- 
tion, or  (2.)  to  the  Enjoyment  of  Existence,  or  (3.) 
to  the  Preservation  of  the  Species,  or  (4.)  to  our 
Tendency  toAvards  Development  and  Perfection,  or 
(5.)  to  the  Moral  Law.^    {Led.  on  JSLetajjli.y  XLVI.) 

II.  Will  is  a  free  cause,  a  cause  which  is  not  also 
an  effect,  a  power  of  absolute  origination.  (Discus- 
sions, p.  (523.)     It  is  proved  to  be  so, 

1.  Divectl/j,  by  an  immediate  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness to  the  fact  (Lect.  on  Metajph.^  II.  ;  lieid's 
WorJcs,  p.  624,  note,  and  pp.   61G-7,  notes)  ;    while 


'  It  may  lie  observed  that  this  is  the  classification  of  the  desires 
given  above  (rJicnomenohnji/  of  the  Fcdinys,  Chap.  II.,  §  2,  (B) 
II.)  ;  and  it  is  the  only  classification  attempted  by  Sir  William  Ham- 
ilton. It  ought  not,  however,  to  be  forgotten  tliat  it  is  suggested, 
not  in  an  independent  treatment  of  the  desires,  but  in  a  description 
of  the  feelings  which  the  desires  originate.  — J.  C.  M. 


sin    WILLIAM  nAMILTOS^S  PIIlLOSOrnY. 


227 


con- 
lekVs 


desires 
2,  (B) 
1  Ilam- 
gestcd, 
ription 


2.  Indirecthj  also  it  is  implied  in  our  conscious- 
ness, at  once  of  an  uncompromisiug  law  of  duty,  and 
of  our  bein2:  the  accountable  authors  of  our  actions. 
{Led.  on  Metoph.,  II.  ;  Discussions,  pp.  623-4.) 

The  fact  of  a  free  volition  is  indeed  positively  in- 
conceivable, and  that  for  two  reasons  :  — 

1.  The  Law  of  the  Conditioned  in  Time,  under  the 
form  of  the  Law  of  Causality,  renders  impossible  the 
conception  of  an  absolute  commencement. 

2.  On  the  one  hand,  the  determination  of  the  will 
by  motives  can  be  conceived  only  as  a  necessitation 
which  would  ronclcr  moral  accountability  impossible. 
On  the  other  hand,  were  we  to  admit  as  true  what  wo 
cannot  think  as  possible,  still  the  doctrine  of  a  motive- 
less volition  would  be  only  casualism  ;  and  the  free 
acts  of  an  indifferent,  are,  morally  and  rationally,  as 
worthless  as  the  pre-ordered  passions  of  a  determined 
will. 

How,  therefore,  moral  liberty  is  possible  in  man  or 
in  God  must  remain,  under  the  present  limitation  of 
our  faculties,  wholly  incomprehensible  ;  but  the  fact 
of  liberty  cannot  be  redargued  on  the  ground  of  its 
incomprehensibilit3^     For, 

1.  The  judgment  of  causalitjs  which  renders  free 
w'ill  inconceivable,  has  been  proved  not  to  de[)cud  on  a 
poicer  of  the  mind,  imposing,  as  necessary  in  thought, 
what  is  necessary  in  the  universe  of  existence.  Tiiis 
judgment  is  a  mere  mental  inijwtence,  — an  impotence 
to  conceive  cither  of  two  contradictories ;  and  as  the 
one  or  the  other  of  contradictories  must  be  true,  whilst 
both  cannot,  there  is  no  ground  for  inferring  a  fact  to 
be  impossible  merely  from  our  inahility  to  conceive  its 


I 


■     V 


\\\ 


228         AN  OUTLINE   OF  HAMILTON'S  PHILOSOPHY. 


possibility.  At  the  same  time,  if  the  causal  judgment 
be  not  an  exi^ress  affirmation  of  mind,  but  only  an 
incapacity  of  thinking  the  opposite,  it  follows  that 
such  a  negative  judgment  cannot  counterbalance  the 
express  affirmative,  the  unconditional  testimony,  of 
consciousness,  that  we  are,  though  we  know  not  how, 
the  true  and  responsible  authors  of  our  actions,  not 
merely  the  worthless  links  in  an  adamantine  series  of 
causes  and  effects. 

2.    But  not  only  may  the  fact  of  our  moral  liberty 
b  .vn  to  be  possible,  though  inconceivable;   the 

TCi^  '  ejection  of  incomprehensibility,  by  which  the 
fatalist  had  thought  to  triumph  over  the  libertarian, 
may  ' '>  n'^^ed  against  himself.  The  scheme  of 
freedom  is  noi  more  inconceivable  than  the  scheme 
of  necessity.  For  whilst  fatalism  is  a  recoil  from 
the  more  obtrusive  inconceivability  of  an  absolute 
commencement,  on  the  fact  of  which  commencement 
the  doctrine  of  liberty  proceeds ;  the  fotalist  over- 
looks the  equal,  but  less  obtrusive,  inconceivability 
of  an  infinite  non-commencement,  on  the  assertion  of 
which  non-commencement  his  own  doctrine  of  neces- 
sity must  ultimately  rest.  As  cquallj'  unthinkable, 
the  two  counter,  the  two  one-sided,  schemes  are  thus 
theoretically  balanced.  But  practically  our  conscious- 
ness of  the  moral  law,  which,  without  a  moral  liberty 
in  man,  would  be  a  mendacious  imperative,  gives  a 
decisive  preponderance  to  the  doctrine  of  freedom 
over  the  doctrine  of  fate.  We  'are  free  in  act,  if  we 
are  accountable  for  our  actions.  (^Discussions,  pp. 
623-5.) 


V. 


I 


SECOND  DIVISION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


NOMOLOGICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


! 


NOMOLOGICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


I 


N0310LOGICAL  Psychology,  or  the  Nomology  of 
IMind,  is  that  science  which  investigates,  not  contin- 
gent appearances,  but  the  necessary  and  universal 
facts,  that  is,  the  laivSy  by  which  our  faculties  are 
governed,  to  the  end  that  we  may  obtain  a  criterion 
by  Avhich  to  judge  or  to  explain  their  procedures  and 
manifestations.  Now,  there  will  be  as  many  depart- 
ments of  Nomological  Psychology  as  there  are  classes 
of  mental  phenomena ;  for  as  each  class  proposes  a 
difl'erent  end,  and,  in  the  accomplishment  of  that  end, 
is  regulated  by  peculiar  laws,  each  must  consequently 
have  a  different  science  conversant  about  these  laws, 
that  is,  a  different  Nomology. 

(A)  First  Part  of  Nomological  Psychology: 
Nomology  of  the  Cognitions.  There  is  no  one,  no 
Nomological,  science  of  the  Cognitive  faculties,  in 
general ;  though  we  have  some  older  treatises  which, 
though  partial  in  their  subject,  afford  a  name  not  im- 
suitable  for  a  nomology  of  the  cognitions,  —  namely, 
Guoseologia  or  Guostologia.  There  is  no  indepen- 
dent science  of  the  laws  of  Perception;  if  there  were, 
it  might  be  called  Esthetic,  which,  however,  as  we 


shall  see,  would  be  ambiguous. 


Mnemonic, 
281 


or  the 


m 


AX  OVrUSE    OF 


science  of  the  laws  of  Meiiioiy,  liiis  been  elaborated 
at  least  in  nuinerons  treatises  ;  but  the  name  Anam- 
nestic, the  art  of  llecoUectiou  or  Reminiscence,  might 
be  equally  well  applied  to  it.  The  laws  of  the  Repre- 
sentative faculty,  — that  is,  the  laws  of  Association, — 
have  not  yet  been  elevated  into  a  separate  Xomolog- 
ical  science.  Neither  have  the  conditions  of  the  Reg- 
ulative or  Legislative  faculty,  the  faculty  itself  of 
Laws,  been  fully  analyzed,  far  less  reduced  to  system  ; 
though  we  have  several  deservedly  forgotten  treatises, 
of  an  older  date,  under  the  inviting  name  of  J^^oolo- 
ffiea.  The  only  one  of  the  cognitive  faculties,  Avhose 
laws  constitute  the  object-matter  of  a  separate  science, 
is  the  Elaborativo.  This  Nomology  has  obtained  the 
name  of  Logic  '  among  other  appellations,  but  not 
from  Aristotle.  The  best  name  would  have  been 
DiANOETic.     Loffic    is   the   science   of  the   laws   of 


thought  in  relation  to  the  end  which  our  cognitive 
faculties  propose,  —  i.e.,  the  True.  To  this  head 
might  be  referred  Grammar, — Universal  Grammar, 
Philosophical  Grammar,  or  the  science  conversant 
with  the  laws  of  Language,  as  the  instrument  of 
thought. 

(B)  Second  Part  of  Nojiological  Psychology  : 
Nomology  of  the  Feelings.  The  Nomology  of  our 
Feelings,  or  the  science  of  the  laws  which  govern  our 
capacities  of  enjoyment,  in  relation  to  the  end  Avhioli 
they  propose,  —  i.  e.,  the  Pleasurable, — has  ob- 
tained no  precise  name  in  our  language.     It  has  been 


Hi 


'  Sir  William  Hamilton  has  a  separate  course  of  lectures  on  Logic, 
which,  however,  could  not,  even  in  the  most  abridged  form,  be  em- 
bodied in  the  present  work.  —  J.  C.  M. 


sin  WILLIAM  nAMiLToy's  rnjLosopnv. 


233 


Reg. 


)LOGY  : 
I  of  our 
[ni  our 
which 
lis  ob- 
is been 


called  the  Philosopliy  of  Taste,  and,  on  the  Continent 
cspcciall}',  it  has  been  denominated  ulOsthetic.  Neither 
name  is  unobjectionable.  The  first  is  vague,  meta- 
phorical, and  even  delusive.  In  regard  to  the  second, 
you  arc  aware  that  a^ff'^irt^  in  Greek  meann  fecliui^  in 
general,  as  well  as  sense  in  particular;  as  our  term 
feelinr/  means  cither  the  sense  of  touch  in  particular, 
or  sentiment,  —  and  the  capacity  of  the  pleasurable 
and  painful  in  general.  Both  terms  arc,  therefore,  to 
a  certain  extent,  ambiguous  ;  but  this  objection  can 
rarely  be  avoided,  and  iEsthetie,  if  not  the  best  ex- 
pression to  be  found,  has  already  been  long  and  gen- 
erally employed.  The  term  Apolaustic  Avould  have 
been  a  more  appropriate  designation. 

(C)  TiiiiiD  Part  of  No.^iological  Psvcholooy  : 
NoiiOLOGY  OF  THE  CoNATioxs.  Tho  Nomology  of 
our  Conative  powers  is  Practical  .Philo802)hy/,  properly 
so  called ;  for  practical  philosophy  is  simply  tho 
science  of  the  laws  regulative  of  our  will  and  desires 
in  relation  to  the  end  which  our  conative  powers  pro- 
pose,—  i.  e.,  the  Good.  This,  as  it  considers  these 
laws  in  relation  to  man  as  an  individual,  or  in  relation 
to  man  as  a  member  of  society,  will  bo  divided  into 
two  branches,  —  Ethics  and  Politics  ;  and  these  again 
admit  of  various  subdivisions.  {Lect.  on  Metaph.y 
VII.) 


Logic, 
I,  be  em- 


THIRD  DIVISION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


INFERENTIAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


I  : 

[         , 

(5 


w 


IiNFERENTIAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


CHAPTER   T. 


EXISTENCE   IN  GENERAL. 


In  connection  with  the  general  division  of  the  phil- 
osophical sciences  it  was  stated  that  the  third  great 
branch  of  phik)sophy  investigates  the  inferences  which 
are  to  be  drawn  from  the  phenomena  presented  in 
consciousness.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  bo  supposed 
that  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  existence 
itself;  we  know  it  merely  through  the  phenomena  in 
which  it  is  manifested.  It  is  consequently  necessary 
now  to  explain  the  great  axiom,  that  all  human  knoicl- 
edge  is  only  of  (he  relative  and  phenomenal. 

In  this  proposition  the  term  relative  is  opposed  to 
the  term  absolute;  and  therefore,  in  saying  that  we 
know  only  the  relative,  I  virtually  assert  that  we 
know  nothing  absolute,  —  nothing  existing  absolutely, 
that  is,  in  and  for  itself,  and  without  relation  to  us 
and  our  faculties.  I  shall  illustrate  this  by  its  appli- 
cation. Our  knowledge  is  either  of  matter  or  of 
mind,. 

I.    Now,  what  is  matter?    What  do  wo  know   of 

387 


i 


i 


I 


wr^r 


ill 


238 


Ay  OUTLINE   OF 


matter?     Matter  or  body  is  to  us  the  name  cither  of 
somcthinf?  Icnoum  or  of  somethinsr  iinknorcn. 

1.  In  so  far  as  matter  is  the  name  iov  something 
known,  it  means  that  wliicli  appears  to  us  under  the 
forms  of  extension,  solidity,  divisil)ility,  figure,  mo- 
tion, roughness,  smoothness,  color,  heat,  cold,  etc. ; 
in  sliort,  it  is  a  common  name  for  a  certain  series  or 
aggregate  or  complement  of  appearances  or  phenom- 
ena manifested  in  coexistence. 

2.  But  as  these  phenomena  appear  only  in  conjunc- 
tion, we  are  compelled  by  the  constitution  of  our 
nature  to  think  them  conjoined  in  and  by  something; 
and  as  they  are  plienomena,  we  cannot  think  them  the 
phencnuena  of  nothing,  but  must  regard  them  as  the 
properties  or  qualities  of  something  that  is  extended, 
solid,  figured,  etc.  But  this  something,  absolutely 
and  in  itself,  — that  is,  considered  apart  from  its  phe- 
nomena,—  is  to  us  as  zero.  It  is  only  in  its  quali- 
ties, only  in  its  effects,  in  its  relative  or  phenomenal 
existence,  that  it  is  cognizable  or  conceivable  ;  and  it 
is  only  by  a  law  of  thought,  which  compels  us  to  think 
something,  absolute  and  unknown,  as  the  basis  or 
condition  of  the  relative  and  known,  that  this  some- 
thing obtains  a  kind  of  incomprehensible  reality  tons. 
Now,  that  which  manifests  its  qualities, — in  other 
words,  that  in  which  the  appearing  causes  inhere,  that 
to  which  they  belong,  —  is  called  their  subject,  or  sub- 
stance, or  substratum.  To  this  subject  of  the  phenom- 
ena of  extension,  solidity,  etc.,  the  term  matter  or 
material  substance  is  commonly  g'.yen  ;  and,  therefore, 
as  contradistinguished  from  these  qualities,  it  is  the 
name  of  something  unknown  and  inconceivable. 


SIR    WILLIAM  nAMILTON\s  PHILOSOPHY. 


239 


?foro, 
Is  the 


II.  The  6amo  is  true  in  regard  to  the  term  mind. 
1.  In  so  far  as  mind  is  the  common  name  for  the 
states  of  knowing,  willing,  feeling,  desiring,  etc.,  of 
which  I  am  conscious,  it  is  only  the  name  for  a  certain 
series  of  connected  phenomena  or  qualities,  and,  con- 
sequently, expresses  only  what  is  knoivn.  2.  But  in 
so  far  as  it  denotes  that  subject  or  substance  in  which 
the  phenomena  of  knowing,  willing,  etc.,  inhere, — 
something  behind  or  under  these  phenomena,  —  it 
expresses  what,  in  itself,  or  in  its  absolute  existence, 
\s  unknown. 

Thus,  mind  and  matter,  as  known  or  knowable,  are 
only  two  different  series  of  phenomena  or  qualities ; 
mind  and  matter,  as  unknown  and  unknowable,  are 
the  two  substances  in  which  these  two  different  series 
of  phenomena  or  qualities  are  supposed  to  inhere. 
The  existence  of  an  unknown  substance  is  only  an  in- 
ference we  are  compelled  to  make  from  the  existence 
of  known  phenomena ;  and  the  distinction  of  two 
substances  is  only  inferred  from  the  seeming  incom- 
patibility of  the  two  series  of  phenomena  to  coinhere 
in  one. 

Our  whole  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  thus, 
as  we  have  said,  only  relative ;  of  existence,  abso- 
lutely and  in  itself,  we  know  nothing ;  and  we  may 
say  of  man  what  Virgil  says  of  iEneas,  contemplating 
in  the  prophetic  sculpture  of  his  shield  the  future 
glories  of  Rome, —  - 

'*  Rerumque  ignarus,  imagine  gaudct." 

Thus,  our  knowledge  is  of  partial  and  relative  ex- 
istence only,  seeing  that  existence  in  itself,  or  abso- 


210 


^.V  OUTLINE    OF 


v.  f 

'1 


\ 


lute  existence,  is  no  object  of  knowledge .  But  it 
does  not  follow  that  all  relative  exist?nce  is  relative 
to  us;  that  all  that  can  be  known  even  by  a  limited 
intelligence  is  actually  cognizable  by  us.  Wo  must, 
therefore,  mf>re  precisely  limit  our  sphere  of  knowl- 
edge, by  r-lding,  that  all  wo  know  is  known  only 
imder  the  special  conditions  of  knowledge. 

Xow,  this  principle  of  the  relativity  of  all  hutnan 
knowledge  divides  itself  into  two  branches.  In  the 
first  place,  it  would  bo  unphilosophical  to  conclude 
that  the  properties  of  existence  necessarily  are,  in 
number,  only  as  the  number  of  our  faculties  of  appre- 
hending them  ;  or,  in  the  second,  that  the  properties 
known  arc  known  in  their  native  purity,  and  with- 
out addition  or  modification  from  our  organs  of  sense, 
or  our  capacities  of  intelligence.  I  shall  illustrate 
these  in  their  order. 

I.  In  regard  to  the  first  assertion,  it  is  evident  that 
nothing  exists  for  us,  except  in  so  far  as  it  is  known 
to  us,  and  that  nothing  is  known  to  us,  except  certain 
properties  or  modes  of  existence,  which  arc  relative 
or  analogous  to  our  fiiculties.  Beyond  these  modes 
Me  know,  and  can  assert,  the  reality  of  no  existence. 
But  if,  on  the  one  hand,  we  are  not  entitled  to  assert, 
as  actually  existent,  except  what  we  know ;  neither, 
on  the  other,  are  we  warranted  in  denying,  as  possi- 
bly existent,  what  we  do  not  know.  The  universe 
may  be  conceived  as  a  pcjlygon  of  a  thousand,  or  a 
hundred  thousand,  sides  or  facets;  and  each  of  these 
sides  or  facets  may  be  conceived  as  representing  one 
special  mode  of  existence.  Now,  of  those  thousand 
sides  or  modes,  all  may  be  equally  essential,  but  three 


sin    WILLIAM  n A  MILTON  S  PniLOSOmY. 


241 


hossi- 

Iverse 

or  a 

ItbesG 

one 

iisand 

tlireo 


or  four  only  may  bo  turned  towards  us,  or  be  aualo- 
gous  to  our  orpfaiis.  One  side  or  facet  of  the  uni- 
verse, as  holding  a  relation  to  the  organ  of  sight,  is 
the  mode  of  luminous  or  visible  existence  ;  another, 
as  proportional  to  the  organ  of  hearing,  is  the  mode 
of  sonorous  or  audible  existence  ;  and  so  on.  But  if 
every  eye  to  see,  if  every  ear  to  hear,  were  annihi- 
lated, the  mode  of  existence  to  which  these  organs 
noAv  stand  in  relation, — that  which  could  be  seen, 
that  which  could  be  heard,  —  would  still  remain  ;  and 
if  the  intelligences,  reduced  to  the  three  senses  of 
touch,  smell,  and  taste,  were  then  to  assert  the  im- 
possibility of  any  modes  of  being  except  those  to 
which  these  three  senses  were  analogous,  the  procedure 
would  not  be  more  unwarranted,  than  if  we  now  ven- 
tured to  deny  the  possible  reality  of  other  modes  of 
material  existence  than  those  to  the  perception  of 
wdiich  our  five  senses  are  accommodated.  I  will  illus- 
trate this  by  a  hypothetical  parallel.  Let  us  suppose 
a  block  of  marble,  on  which  there  are  four  different 
inscriptions,  —  in  Greek,  in  Latin,  in  Persic,  in  He- 
brew ;  and  that  four  travellers  approach,  each  able  to 
read  onl}'^  the  inscription  in  his  native  tongue.  The 
Greek  is  delighted  with  the  information  the  marl)lo 
affords  him  of  the  siege  of  Troy ;  the  Ivotnan  finds 
interesting  matter  regarding  the  expulsion  of  the 
Kings  ;  the  Persian  deciphers  an  oracle  of  Zoroaster, 
and  the  Jew  is  surprised  by  a  commemoration  of  the 
Exodus.  Here,  as  each  inscription  exists  or  is  sig- 
nificant only  to  him  who  possesses  the  corresponding 
language  ;  so  the  several  modes  of  existence  are  man- 
ifested only  to  those  intelligences  who  possess  the 
IG 


242 


AX   OUTLINE    OF 


if    i 


'M 


ir- 


corresponding  organs.  And  as  each  of  the  four 
readers  would  bo  rash,  if  lie  maintained  that  the  mar- 
ble could  bo  significant  only  as  significant  to  him,  so 
should  we  be  rash,  were  we  to  hold  that  the  universe 
had  no  other  phases  of  being  than  the  fcAV  that  arc 
turned  towards  our  faculties,  and  which  our  five  senses 
enable  us  to  perceive. 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  it  is  perhaps  proper  to 
observe  that,  had  we  faculties  equal  in  nimiber  to  all 
the  possible  modes  of  existence,  whether  of  mind  or 
matter,  still  would  our  knowledge  of  mind  or  matter 
be  only  relative.  If  material  existence  could  exhibit 
ten  thousand  phenomena,  and  if  we  possessed  ten 
thousand  senses  to  apprehend  these,  of  existence  abso- 
lutely and  in  itself  we  should  be  then  as  ignorant  as 
we  are  at  present. 

II.  But  the  consideration  that  our  actual  faculties 
of  knowledge  are  probably  wholly  inadequate  in  num- 
ber to  the  possible  modes  of  being,  is  of  comparatively 
less  importance  than  the  other  consideration  to  which 
we  now  proceed,  that  whatever  we  know  is  not  hioivn 
as  it  is  J  but  only  as  it  seems  to  us  to  be;  for  it  is  of 
less  importance  that  our  knowledge  should  be  limited, 
than  that  our  knowledge  should  be  pure.  It  is,  there- 
fore, of  the  highest  moment  that  we  should  be  aware 
that  what  we  know  is  not  a  simple  relation  appre- 
hended between  the  ol)ject  known  and  the  subject 
knowing,  but  that  every  knowledge  is  a  sum  made  up 
of  several  elements,  and  that  the  great  business  of 
philosophy  is  to  analyze  and  discriminate  these  ele- 
ments, and  to  determine  from  whence  these  contribu- 
tions have  been  derived.     I  shall  explain  what  I  mean 


I! 


sin  iriLLr.i.M  iiamilton^s  p/iiLOsornY, 


243 


by  an  example.  In  tho  perception  of  an  external 
o1)ject,  the  mind  docs  not  know  it  in  immediate  re- 
lation to  itself,  1)ut  mediately,  in  relation  to  the  mate- 
rial organs  of  sense.  If,  therefore,  avc  were  to  throw 
these  organs  ont  of  consideration,  and  did  not  take 
into  acconnt  what  they  contribute  to,  and  how  they 
modify  our  knowledge  of,  that  object,  it  is  evident 
that  our  conclusion  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  external 
perception  would  be  erroneous.  Again,  an  object  of 
perception  may  not  even  stand  in  immediate  relation 
to  the  organ  of  sense,  l)ut  may  make  its  impression  on 
that  organ  through  an  intervening  medium.  Xow,  if 
this  medium  be  thrown  out  of  account,  and  if  it  be 
not  considered  that  the  real  external  object  is  the  sinn 
of  all  that  externally  contributes  to  affect  the  sense, 
we  shall,  in  like  manner,  run  into  error.  For  exam- 
ple, I  see  a  book,  —  I  see  that  book  through  an  ex- 
ternal medium  (what  that  medium  is,  we  do  not  now 
inquire),  —  and  I  see  it  through  my  organ  of  sight, 
the  eye.  Now,  as  the  full  object  presented  to  the 
mind  (observe  that  I  say  the  miiid),  in  perception,  is 
an  object  compounded  of  (1.)  the  external  object 
emitting  or  reflecting  light,  i.  c,  modifying  the  exter- 
nal medium,  of  (2.)  lliis  extcrjial  medium,  and  of  (3.) 
the  living  organ  of  sense,  in  their  nnitual  relation,  let 
us  suppose,  in  the  example  I  have  taken,  that  the  full 
or  adequate  object  perceived  is  equal  to  twelve,  and 
that  this  amount  is  made  up  of  three  several  parts, — 
of  four  contributed  by  the  book,  of  four  contributed 
by  all  that  intcrvMies  between  the  book  and  tho 
organ,  and  of  four  contributed  by  the  living  organ 
itself. 


244 


AN  OUTLINE   OF 


i 


M     A 

t      ':'■ 
If        f 

\      ,! 

1 
■  / 
I 
\ 


'  ■  ! 

4 


I  use  this  illustration  to  show,  that  the  phenome- 
non of  the  external  object  is  not  presented  imme- 
diately to  the  mind,  but  is  known  by  it  only  as 
modified  through  certain  intermediate  agencies  ;  and 
to  show  that  sense  itself  may  be  a  source  of  error,  if 
we  do  not  analyze  and  distinguish  what  elements,  in 
an  act  of  perception,  belong  to  the  outward  reality, 
what  to  the  outward  medium,  and  what  to  the  action 
of  sense  itself.  But  this  source  of  error  is  not  limited 
to  our  perceptions  ;  and  we  are  liable  to  be  deceived, 
not  merely  by  not  distinguishing  in  an  act  of  knowl- 
edge what  is  contributed  by  sense,  but  by  not  dis- 
tinguishing what  is  contributed  by  the  mind  itself. 
This  is  the  most  difficult  and  important  function  of 
philosophy ;  and  the  greater  number  of  its  higher 
problems  arise  in  the  attempt  to  determine  the  shares 
to  which  the  knowing  subject,  and  the  object  known, 
may  pretend  in  the  total  act  of  cognition.  For,  accord- 
ing as  we  attribute  a  larger  or  a  smaller  proportion  to 
each,  we  either  run  into  the  extremes  of  Idealism  and 
Materialism,  or  maintain  an  equilibrium  between  the 
two.     {Led.  on  Metajjh.,  VIII.) 

But  although  existence  bo  only  revealed  to  us  in 
phenomena,  and  though  we  can,  therefore,  have  only 
a  relative  knowledge  either  of  mind  or  of  matter  ;  still, 
by  inference  and  analogy,  we  may  legitimately  attempt 
to  rise  above  the  mere  appearances  which  experience 
and  observation  afford.  Thus,  for  example,  the  ex- 
istence of  God  and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  are 
not  given  us  as  phenomena,  as  objects  of  immediate 
knowledge  ;  yet,  if  the  phenomena  actually  given  do 


I 


««  wiLtiAu  nAAtUTox's  pniLosopnr. 


245 


necessarily  require,  for  their  rational  explanation,  the 
hypo  heses  of  immoifility  and  of  God,  wo  are  1 
aured  y  entitled,  from  the  existenee  of  the  former  to 
lufcr  the  reality  of  the  latter.     {Ibid    VII  ) 


INFERENTIAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


CHAPTER   II. 


EXISTENCE    OF    GOD   AND    IMMORTALITY  OF  THE   SOUL. 


i;  *« 


[ 


■  I 


The  mind  of  man  rises  to  its  highest  dignity  when 
viewed  as  the  object  through  which,  and  through 
which  alone,  his  unassisted  reason  can  ascend  to  the 
knowledge  of  a  God. 

The  Deity  is  not  an  object  of  immediate  contempla- 
tion ;  as  existing  and  in  himself,  he  is  beyond  our 
reach  ;  we  can  know  him  only  mediately  through  his 
works,  and  are  only  warranted  in  assuming  his  exist- 
ence as  a  certain  kind  of  cause  necessary  to  account 
for  a  certain  state  of  things,  of  whose  reality  our  fac- 
ulties are  supposed  to  infoi'ni  us.  The  affirmation  of 
a  God  being  thus  a  regressive  inference,  from  the 
existence  of  a  special  class  of  effects  to  the  existence 
of  a  special  character  of  cause,  it  is  evident  that  the 
whole  argument  hinges  on  the  fact,  —  Does  a  state  of 
things  really  exist  such  as  is  only  possible  through 
the  agency  of  a  Divine  Cause?  For  if  it  can  be  shown 
that  such  a  state  of  things  does  not  really  exist,  then 

24G 


AX  OUTLISE   OF  IIAMILTOS  S   miLOSOrilY. 


247 


,    SOCL. 

y  when 
,hrough 
I  to  the 


our  Intoronco  to  Iho  kind  of  cjuisc  requisite  to  account 
for  it  is  necessarily  null. 

"We  must,  first  of  all,  then,  consitlor  what  kind  of 
cause  it  is  which  constitutes  a  Dcily,  and  Avhat  kind 
of  effects  thoy  are  which  allow  us  to  infer  that  a  Deity 
must  he. 

The  notion  of  a  God  is  not  contained  in  the  notion 
of  a  mere  first  cause  ;  for  in  the  admission  of  a  first 
cause  Atheist  and  Theist  arc  at  one.  Neither  is  this 
notion  completed  by  adding  to  a  first  cause  the  attri- 
bute of  Onmipotcncc  ;  for  the  atheist  who  holds  mat- 
ter or  necessity  to  he  the  original  principle  of  all  that 
is,  does  not  convert  his  blind  force  into  a  God,  by 
merely  affirming  it  to  be  all-powerful.  It  is  not  until 
the  two  great  attributes  of  Intelligence  and  Virtue 
(and  be  it  observed  that  Virtue  involves  Liberty)  —  I 
say,  it  is  not  until  the  two  attributes  of  intelligence 
aud^virtue  or  holiness  are  brought  in,  that  the  belief 
in  a  primary  and  onniipotent  cause  becomes  the  be- 
lief in  a  veritable  Divinity.  But  these  latter  attri- 
butes are  not  more  essential  to  the  divine  ntiturc  than 
arc  the  former.  For  as  original  and  infinite  power 
does  not  of  itself  constitute  a  God,  so  neither  is  a  God 
constituted  l)y  intelligence  and  virtue,  unless  intelli- 
gence and  goodness  be  themselves  conjoined  with  this 
original  and  infinite  power.  For  even  a  Creator, 
intelligent  and  good  and  powerfid,  Avould  l)e  no  God, 
were  he  dependent  for  his  intelligence  and  goodness 
and  power  on  any  higher  principle.  On  this  su})posi- 
tion,  the  perfections  of  the  Creator  are  viewed  as  lim- 
ited and  derived.  He  is  himself,  therefore,  only  a 
dependency,  —  only  a  creature  ;    and  if  a  God  there 


218 


AX  nrrrrxE  of 


H  i 


1)0,  he  nmst  Ijc  sou)[rlil  for  in  tliiit  Iiiirlicr  pi-liicM[)lo, 
from  wliicli  this  siihordiiiato  pi'iiR'i[)lc  ck'rives  its  uttri- 
biitoH.  Now,  is  tliis  hi^^hcst  i)i'inciplo  {ex  JiypotJiCHe^ 
all-powcrriil)  also  iiitclJigcMit  and  moral  ;  then  it  is 
itsolf  llic  v{'ri(a))l('  Deity.  On  the  otlior  hand,  is  it, 
though  the  aiiliior  (jI'  intelligence  and  goodness  in 
another,  itself  unintelligent;  then  is  a  Mind  Fate  con- 
stituted the  tirst  and  universal  cause,  and  atheism  is 
asserted. 

The  peculiar  attributes  "which  distinguish  a  Deity 
from  the  original  (juuiipotence  or  blind  fate  of  the 
atheist  being  thus  those  of  iiilelligcjice  and  holiness 
of  will,  and  the  assertion  of  theism  being  only  the 
assertion  that  the  miiverso  is  governed  not  only  by 
physical  but  by  moral  laws,  we  have  next  to  consider 
h(jw  we  are  warranted  in  these  two  affirmations  :  (1.) 
that  intelligence  stands  tirst  in  the  absolute  order  of 
existence,  in  other  words,  that  linal  preceded  ellicieut 
causes;  and  (2.)  that  the  universe  is  governed  by 
moral  laws. 

The  proof  of  these  two  propositions  is  the  proof  of 
a  God ;  but  before  considering  how  far  the  phenom- 
ena of  mind  and  of  matter  do  and  do  not  allow  us  to 
infer  the  one  position  or  the  other,  I  must  solicit  your 
attention  to  the  characteristic  contrasts  which  these 
two  classes  of  phenomena  in  themselves  exhibit. 

In  the  compass  of  our  experience,  we  distinguish 
two  series  of  facts,  —  the  facts  of  th'  cxt>  <  ■  il  or  ma- 
terial Avorld,  and  the  facts  of  .nternal  world  or 
world  of  intellii^ence.  The  ncomitant  ries  of 
phenomena  are  not  like  str>  us  w]'"'h  merely  run 
parallel  to  each  other;    they  do  not    liice  the  Alpheus 


sn:  iin.i.r.t.v  /rtMrr'rn.\\<;  p/irtnsor/ir. 


219 


[)()f  of 

'uom- 
\is  to 
your 
llicso 

iii!;uisli 
or  ma- 
id or 
•ics  of 
y  run 
Iplicus 


jvikI  Aictliiisa,  How  on  side  by  sUV\  without  :i  com- 
iniii'iliiiL:'  ol"  tlu'ir  waters.  TIicn-  cross,  ihw  coinhiiio, 
they  .'ire  iiitcrlact'd ;  but  notwitlistandini;"  tlicir  inti- 
mate eomieetion,  llioir  mutual  action  and  i-eactiou, 
■wo  are  able  to  discriminate  llieni  without  dilli- 
cuhy,  because  they  are  marked  out  by  characteristic 
dillcrenoGS. 

The  phenomena  of  the  material  world  are  subjected 
to  imnujtabh."  laws,  are  produced  and  reproduced  in 
the  .same  invariable  succession,  and  manifest  only  the 
blind  force  of  a  mechanical  necessity. 

The  phenomena  of  man  are,  in  part,  subjected  to 
the  laws  of  the  external  uiuverse.  As  dci)endent 
upon  a  bodily  organization,  as  actuated  by  sensual  pro- 
pensities and  animal  wants,  ho  belongs  to  matter,  and, 
in  this  respect,  he  is  the  slave  of  necessity.  But  what 
man  holds  of  matter  docs  not  make  up  his  personalitj'. 
They  are  his,  not  he  ;  man  is  not  an  organism,  —  ho 
is  an  ijitclligence  served  by  organs.  For  in  man  there 
are  tcn<lencie,s  —  there  is  a  law  —  which  continually 
urge  him  lo  prove  that  he  is  more  powerful  than  the 
nature  by  which  he  is  surrounded  and  penetrated. 
He  is  conscious  to  himself  of  faculties  not  comprised 
in  the  chain  of  physical  necessity;  his  intelligence 
reveals  prescriptive  principles  of  action,  absolute  and 
universal,  in  the  Law  of  Duty,  and  a  liberty  capable 
of  carrying  that  Uuv  into  ellect,  in  opposition  to  the 
solicitations,  the  impulsions,  of  his  material  nature. 
From  the  coexistence  of  these  opposing  forces  in  man, 
there  results  a  ceaseless  struggle  l)etween  physical 
neccssitv  and  moral  liberty,  —  in  the  language  of  Kev- 
elation,  between  the  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  ;    and  this 


250 


Ayr  OUTLINE   OF 


\t  'i 


|!    S 


struggle  constitutes  at  once  the  distinctive  chamcter 
of  humanity,  and  the  essential  condition  of  hunn'ii 
development  and  virtue. 

In  the  facts  of  intellio-encc  we  thus  become  aware 
of  an  order  of  things  diametrically  in  contrast  to  that 
displa\'od  to  us  in  the  facts  of  the  material  universe. 
There  is  made  known  to  us  an  order  of  things,  in 
which  intelligence,  by  recognizing  the  unconditional 
law  of  duty  and  an  absolute  obligation  to  fn^lil  it,  rec- 
ognizes its  own  possession  of  a  liberty  incompatil)le 
with  a  dependence  upon  fate,  and  of  a  power  capable 
of  resisting  and  conquering  the  counteraction  of  our 
animal  nature. 

Now,  it  is  only  as  man  is  a  free  intelligence,  a 
moral  i)ower,  that  he  is  created  after  the  image  of 
God,  and  it  is  ojily  as  a  spark  of  divinity  glows  as  the 
life  of  life  in  us,  that  we  can  rationally  believe  in  an 
Intelligent  Creator  and  Uoral  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse. For,  let  us  suppose  that  in  man  intelli^rencc 
is  the  product  of  organization,  that  our  consciousness 
of  moral  lil)erly  is  itself  an  illusion;  in  slun-t,  that 
acts  of  volition  are  results  of  the  same  iron  jiecessity 
which  determines  the  phenomena  of  matter ;  on  this 
supposition  the  founc^  .tionsof  all  religion,  natural  and 
revealed,  arc  su1)verted.  The  truth  of  this  Avill  bo 
best  seen  by  applying  the  supposition  of  the  two  posi- 
lions  of  theism  previoush' stated. 

I.  In  egard  to  the  former,  how  can  we  attempt  to 
prove  that  ihe  univei'se  if*  the  cvealion  of  u  Jree  or'i.nal 
iufcUifrciice,  against  the  counterposition  of  tlu'  a  heist, 
that  liberty  is  an  iUnsion,  and  intelligence,  or  the 
adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  only  the  product  of  a 


sin  WILLI  A  ^T  HAMILTON^  s  rniLosornr. 


251 


a 


III  an 
uiii- 

snoss 
,  th:it 
ssity 
this 

I  and 

II  be 
posi- 


blincl  fate?  As  v>c  know  nothini?  of  tlio  absolute 
Gitlor  01  existence  in  itself,  we  can  only  attenii)t  to 
infer  its  character  from  that  of  the  particular  order 
within  the  sphere  of  our  experience  ;  and  as  we  can 
(iffirni  naught  of  intelligence  and  its  conditions  except 
what  we  uuiy  discover  tVoni  the  observation  of  our 
own  minds,  it  is  evident  that  we  can  ouly  aualogically 
carry  out  into  the  order  of  the  universe  the  rchition  iu 
which  we  find  incolligence  to  stand  in  the  (U-der  of  the 
human  constitution.  If  in  man  intelli«..jencc  be  a  free 
power,  in  so  far  as  its  liberty  extends,  iutelligeiico 
must  be  independent  of  necessity  and  matter;  and  a 
power  independent  of  matter  necessarily  implies  Iho 
existence  of  an  immaterial  subject,  that  is,  a  sj[)irit. 
If,  then,  the  original  independence  of  iutelligeiico 
on  matter  in  the  human  constitudon,  in  other 
words,  if  the  spirituality  of  mind  in  man,  be  supposed 
a  datum  of  ol>servati()n,  in  this  datum  is  also  given 
both  the  condition  and  the  proof  of  a  God.  For  wo 
have  only  to  infer,  what  analogy  entitles  us  to  do, 
that  intelligence  holds  tlu;  same  relative  suiireniacy  in 
the  universe  which  it  holds  in  us,  and  the  liist  positive 
condition  of  a  Deity  is  established,  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  absolut(!  priority  of  a  free  creative  intelli- 
gence. On  the  other  hand,  let  us  su[)pose  the  risult 
of  our  study  of  man  to  be,  that  intelligence  is  only  a 
product  of  matter,  only  a  retlex  of  organi/ation,  such 
a  doctrine  would  not  only  atlord  no  basis  on  which  to 
rest  any  argument  for  a  (jod,  but,  on  thi'  ci/iitrary, 
would  positively  warrant  the  atheist  in  denying  his 
existence.  For  if,  as  the  materiali.^t  maintains,  tho 
only  intelligence  of  which  we  have  any  experience  bo 


252 


^.V  OUTTJXE    OF 


a  consequent  of  matter,  — on  tliis  lu'pothosis,  he  not 
only  eannot  assume  this  order  to  l)e  reversed  in  the 
relations  of  an  intelligence  beyond  his  observation, 
but,  if  he  argue  logieall}',  he.must  positively  conclude, 
thtit,  as  in  man,  so  in  the  universe,  the  phenomena  of 
intelligence  or  design  arc  only  in  their  last  analysis 
the  products  of  a  brute  nccessitv.  Psvcholoi^ical  ma- 
terialisiu,  if  carried  out  fully  and  fairly  to  its  conclu- 
sions, thus  inevita1)ly  results  in  theological  atheism; 
us  it  has  been  well  expressed  by  Dr.  Henry  More, 
niillus  ill  niicrocosnio  S2)irifi(s,  nuJlits  i>i  Dxicrocosmo 
Deus.  I  do  not,  of  course,  mean  to  assert  that  all 
materialists  deny,  or  actually  disbelieve,  a  God.  For, 
in  very  many  cases,  this  would  be  at  once  an  unmer- 
ited com[)limcnt  to  their  reasoning,  and  an  unmerited 
reproach  to  their  faith. 

II.  Such  is  the  manifest  dependence  of  our  theology 
on  our  psychology  in  reference  to  the  iirst  condition 
of  a  Deity, — the  al)solut(;  priority  of  a  free  intelli- 
gence. r>ut  this  is  pei'ha])s  even  more  conspicuous  in 
relation  to  the  second,  f/ial  the  universe  is  (joverned 
not  merely  hy  physical  but  by  moral  laws;  for  God  is 
only  God  inasmuch  as  he  is  the  ^Nloral  Governor  of  a 
]Moi-al  AVorld. 

(Jur  interest,  also,  in  its  establishment  is  incom- 
paral)Iy  greater ;  for  while  a  proof  that  tlu'  universe 
is  the  work  of  an  onn)i[)otcnt  intelligence  gratities 
only  our  speeulative  ein-iosity,  —  a  proof  that  there  is 
a  holy  legislator,  by  whom  goodness  and  felicity  will 
be  ultimately  brought  into  accordance,  is  necessary  to 
satisfy  both  our  intellect  and  our  heart.     A  God  is, 


SIR    WILLIAM  HAMILTOX  S    PfllLOSOPnY. 


253 


Iconi- 

ITSO 

It  i  ties 

•re  is 

will 

Iry  to 

Kl  is, 


iiulccd,  to  us,  only  of  pnicticjil  interest,  inrismuch  as 
he  is  the  condition  of  our  inunortality. 

Now,  it  is  self-evident,  in  the  tirst  place,  that,  if 
there  he  no  moral  world,  there  can  he  no  moral  gov- 
ernor of  such  a  world  ;  and,  in  the  second,  that  we 
have,  and  can  have,  no  ground  on  which  to  believe  in 
the  reality  of  a  moral  world,  except  in  so  far  as  wo 
ourselves  are  moral  agents.  This  being  undeniable, 
it  is  fuitlicr  evident,  that,  should  we  ever  be  con- 
vinced that  we  arc  not  moral  agents,  we  should  like- 
wise  be  convinced  that  there  exists  no  moral  order  in 
the  universe,  and  no  supreme  intelligence  by  Avhich 
that  moral  order  is  established,  sustained,  and  regu- 
lated. 

But  in  what  does  the  character  of  man  as  a  moral 
agent  consist?  ]Man  is  a  moral  awnt  only  as  ho  is 
accountable  for  his  actions,  in  other  words,  as  he  is 
the  object  of  praise  or  l)lame  ;  and  this  ho  is  only  in- 
asmuch as  he  has  prescribed  to  him  a  rule  of  duty,  and 
as  he  is  abh;  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  in  conforniitv  with 
its  precepts.  The  possibility  of  morality  thus  d(>pends 
on  the  possil)ility  of  liberty  ;  for  if  man  be  not  a  free 
aL^cnt,  he  is  not  the  author  of  his  actions,  and  has 
therefore  no  v  ';ponsibility,  no  moral  personality,  at 
all. 

Theology  is  thus  wholly  dei)endent  on  psychology 
or  mental  science  ;  and  psychology  ojjcrates  in  three 
ways  to  establish  that  assurance  of  human  liberty 
which  is  necessary  for  a  rational  belief  in  our  oAvn 
moral  nature,  in  a  moral  world,  and  in  a  moral  ruler 
of  that  world. 

1.    In  the  first  place,  an  attentive  consideration  of 


254 


yfiV  OVTLIXE   OF 


the  phenomena  of  mind  is  necessary  in  order  to  a 
hmiinous  and  distinct  apprehension  of  liberty  as  a  da- 
tum of  intelligence. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  a  profound  philosoi^hy  is 
necessary  to  obviate  the  difficulties  which  meet  us 
■when  we  attempt  to  explain  the  possil/ility  of  this 
fact,  and  to  prove  that  the  datum  of  liberty  is  not  a 
mere  illusion.  For,  though  an  unconquerable  feeling 
compels  us  to  recognize  ourselves  as  accountable,  and 
therefore  free  agents,  still,  when  avc  attempt  to  real- 
ize in  thought  how  the  fact  of  our  liberty  can  be,  we 
soon  find  that  this  altogether  transcends  our  inider- 
standing,  and  that  every  effort  to  bring  the  fact  of 
liberty  within  the  compass  of  our  conceptions  only 
results  in  the  sul>stitution  in  its  place  of  some  more  or 
less  disguised  form  of  necessity.  The  tendency  of  a 
superficial  philosophy  is  therefore  to  deny  the  fact  of 
liberty,  on  the  principle  that  what  cannot  be  conceived 
is  impossible.  A  deeper  and  more  compreliensivo 
study  of  tlie  facts  of  mind  overturns  this  conclusion 
and  destroys  its  foundation.  It  proves  to  us,  from 
the  very  laws  of  mind,  that,  while  we  can  never  un- 
derstand Jiow  auv  original  datum  of  intelliijenco  is 
possible,  we  have  no  reason  from  this  inability  to 
doubt  that  it  is  true. 

3.  Tu  the  third  place,  the  study  of  miiul  is  neces- 
sarv  to  counterbalance  and  correct  the  influence  of 
the  study  of  nititter ;  and  this  utility  of  psychology 
rises  in  proportion  to  the  progress  of  the  natural  sci- 
ences, and  to  the  greater  attention  which  thoy  engross. 
An  exclusive  devotion  to  physical  pursuits  "exerts  an 
evil   inlluence  in  two  ways.     In  the  y(f*/'.*<Y  place,  it  di- 


SIR    WILLIAM  nAMILTOS  S  PUILOSOPJIY, 


255 


lion 
•om 
un- 
0  is 
to 

ccs- 
of 

ogy 

sci- 
oss. 
n  an 
t  di- 


verts from  all  notice  of  the  phenomena  of  moral  lib- 
erty, ■which  are  revealed  to  ns  in  the  recesses  of  the 
human  mind  alone  ;  and  it  disqualifies  from  appreciat- 
ing the  import  of  these  phenomena,  even  if  presented, 
by  leaving  uncultivated  the  finer  power  of  psychologi- 
cal reflection,  in  the  exclusive  exercise  of  the  faculties 
employed  in  the  easier  and  more  amusing  observation 
of  the  external  world.  In  the  second  place,  by  exhib- 
iting merely  the  phenomena  of  matter  and  extension, 
it  habituates  us  only  to  the  contemplation  of  an  order 
in  Avliich  everything  is  determined  by  the  laws  of  a 
blind  or  mechanical  necessity.  Now,  what  is  the 
inevitable  tendency  of  this  one-sided  and  exclusive 
study  ?  That  the  student  becomes  a  materialist,  if  ho 
speculate  at  all.  For,  in  the  first  place,  he  is  familiar 
with  the  obtrusive  facts  of  necessit}-,  and  is  unaccus- 
tomed to  develop  into  consciousness  the  more  recon- 
dite facts  of  liberty  ;  he  is,  therefore,  disposed  to 
disbelieve  in  the  existence  of  phenomena  whose  reality 
he  may  deny,  and  whose  possibility  he  cannot  under- 
stand. At  the  same  time,  the  love  of  unity,  and  the 
philosophical  presumption  against  the  nHilti[)lication 
of  essences  determine  him  to  reject  the  assumption 
of  a  second,  and  that  an  hypothetical,  substance,  ig- 
norant as  he  is  of  the  reasons  by  which  that  assump- 
tion is  leoitimated. 

In  the  infancy  of  science,  thi-  tendency  of  plnsical 
study  was  not  experienced.  AVhen  men  first  turned 
their  attention  on  the  phenomena  of  nature,  every 
event  was  viewed  as  a  miracle,  for  every  eftect  Avas 
considered  as  the  operation  of  an  intelligence.  God 
was  not  exiled  from  the  universe  of  matter ;   on  the 


256 


^y  OCTLIMC    OF 


\,9 


contrary,  he  was  multi[)li((l  in  proportion  to  its  plic- 
nonicna.  As  .science  advanced,  the  deities  were  grad- 
ually driven  out :  and  \u\vj,  after  the  suhhniarv  world 
had  been  disenchanted,  they  were  left  for  a  season  in 
possession  of  the  starry  lieav(>ns.  The  movement  of 
the  celestial  l)odies,  in  which  Kepler  si  ill  saw  the 
agency  of  a  free  intelligence,  was  at  length  by  New- 
ton resolved  into  a  few  mathematical  priiui[)les  ;  and 
at  last,  even  the  irregularities  which  Xewton  was  com- 
pelled to  leave  for  tlu;  miraeuloii><  correction  of  the 
Deity,  have  heen  i)roved  to  reiiuire  no  suj)ernatural 
interposition;  for  T^a  Place  has  slunvn  that  all  con- 
tingencies, past  and  future,  in  the  heavens,  find 
their  explanation  in  the  one  fundamental  law  of  grav- 
itation. 

But  the  very  contemplation  of  an  order  and  adapta- 
tion so  astonishing,  joined  to  the  knowledge  that  this 
order  and  adaptation  arc  the  n(  cessary  results  of  a 
brute  mechanism,  when  acting  npop  minds  which  have 
not  looked  into  themselves  for  the  liiiht  of  which  the 
world  without  can  onlv  allord  Ihem  reflection,  far 
from  elevating  them  more  than  any  other  aspect  of 
external  creation  to  that  inscrutable  I'eing  who  reiirns 
bo3-ond  and  above  the  universe  of  nature,  (ends,  on 
the  contrary,  to  impress  on  them,  with  peculiar  force, 
the  conviction,  that  as  the  mechanism  of  nature  can 
explain  so  much,  the  mechanism  of  nature  can  ex- 
plain all. 

Should  phvsioloirv  ever  succeed  in  reducinir  the 
facts  of  intelligence  to  phenomena  of  matter,  philoso- 
phy would  be  subverted  in  the  subversion  of  its  three 
great  objects,  God,  Fkee-Will,  and  iMiionTALiTT. 


sin    iniT.IAM  HAMILTOX'S    PlIILOSOPIIY. 


2bl 


the 

loso- 
Ihi-eo 

LlTY. 


True  wLsdom  would  then  consist,  not  in  speculation, 
but  in  i'ci)iH>*?ini:' thou/jflit  during  our  brief  transit  from 
nothingness  to  nothingness.  Forwiiy?  Philosophy 
■would  have  beeonio  a  meditation,  not  merely  of  death, 
but  of  annihilation  :  the  precept,  Jvnow  fhyxdf,  would 
have  been  replaced  by  the  terrible  oraclo  to  CKdi- 
pus :  — 

"  May'st  Ihou  ncvci  know  the  truth  of  what  thou  art;  " 

and  the  final  recompense  of  our  scientilic  curiosity 
would  be  wailing,  deeper  than  Cassandra's,  for  the 
ignorance  that  saved  us  from  despair.  {Led.  on 
JMetcqj/i.,  11.) 


far 
It  of 
iijns 
,  on 
irce, 
can 
ex- 


FINIS. 


n 


